The History of Rock #13 - 1977

the history of rock | 1977
a monthly trip through

musics golden years
this issue: 1977
THE ClasH
We aint ashamed to fight
sTarring...
from the makers of
DaviD bowiE
sEx pisTols
flEETwooD maC
pETEr gabriEl
muDDy waTErs
Elvis CosTEllo
lED zEppElin
THE jam
TElEvision
aC/DC
PLUS! ramones | tom petty | buzzcocks | iggy pop | keith moon
1977
m o n t h by mon th
Welcome
to 1977
fter the widely publicised stirrings of the Sex Pistols at

the close of 1976, punk rock has now become more than a
media sensation. It is a widespread discussion, talked
about in political and increasingly even in musical
terms. Bands such as The Clash, Stranglers and Sex Pistols
are actually releasing albums.
Mick Jagger has checked out the bands in New York and listened to the singles
(Chelsea, Right To Work that ones awful). Keith Moon makes a riotous trip
to the Vortex club, to confront punk rock head on. Robert Plant, who has seen
The Damned at the Roxy, is unconcerned. The dinosaurs, he memorably
says, are still dancing
Still, they are a little on the defensive side. Plant seems anxious to downplay
punks youth, claiming Rat Scabies and Johnny Rotten are older than they
look. Theyre not indeed Plant himself is only 28 but generationally
speaking, he may as well be a cabinet minister. He is professionally expert and
enormously wealthy, but in this changed musical economy, this only
contributes to his irrelevance.
His discomfort is not soothed by the press. Punk doesnt only politicise youth
and revolutionise the way in which records are made, it also effects change in
music papers, which become bolder in layout, more irreverent in tone.
Features by staff writers such as Tony Parsons contain important interviews
with bands like our cover stars The Clash but these only support the main
thrust of his communiqu.
This is the world of The History Of Rock, a monthly magazine that follows each
turn of the rock revolution. Whether in sleazy dive or huge arena, passionate
and increasingly stylish contemporary reporters were there to chronicle
events. This publication reaps the benefits of their understanding for the
reader decades later, one year at a time. Missed one? You can find out how to
rectify that on page 144.
In the pages of this 13th edition, dedicated to 1977, you will find verbatim
articles from frontline staffers, filed from the thick of the action, wherever it
may be. In court with Keith Richards. Looking at the Westway with The Clash.
Being called a wanker with Keith Moon.
It is Moon, in fact, who best articulates the anxieties of his generation of
musicians in 1977 when he reveals to a young punk in the Vortex a simple
biographical fact.
Im 30, he says.
HISTORY OF ROCK 1977 | 3
1977
m o n t h by mon th
6 News
Contents
A bad start to the year for Keith

Richards and for the Rolling
Stones. Pink Floyd have problems,
and Sara Dylan files for divorce.
Sex Pistols are dropped by EMI.
26 Albums
A new one from Bowie, and

some strong stuff from both Bill
Withers and Earth, Wind & Fire.
28 Peter Gabriel
Bowie is incognito. In his

stead, Tony Visconti and Brian Eno
talk Low.
The former Genesis

singer releases his debut solo
album and declares his love of
Springsteen even a sneaking
interest in punk rock.
16Ramones
32 Iggy Pop
12
David Bowie
A trip to the record company

and to Phil Spectors house in the
company of the band. Im
neurotic, says Dee Dee. You
should know what that means.
20Sex Pistols
Fleeing lurid headlines,

the band play in Amsterdam.
While the band are shellshocked
by their recent dramas, Malcolm
McLaren grants an audience to
explain their position.
40 News
The Sex Pistols

celebrate the Queens Silver
Jubilee. Wilko Johnson
leaves Dr Feelgood. The
Beatles get back to the
early days whether
they like it or not.
44The Clash
A telephone conversation
with the performer suggests
that someone perhaps the
reclusive David Bowie? is pulling
his strings. A wild goose chase to
Berlin ensues.
On the tube,
in the caff and
overlooking the
Westway with the
London band. Antipunk violence, reggae
and revolution are all
on the table for
discussion.
36 AC/DC
50 Fleetwood Mac
Angus Young opines angrily

about what and what does not
constitute real rocknroll. On
stage, chaos reliably ensues.
Blondie,
page 54
The former
blues revivalists enjoy
their new status as
MOR champions their
relationship upheavals
notwithstanding.
54 Live
Blondie catch
the eye of the NME
reporter supporting
Television, while Tom Waits and
The Jacksons also appear.
56
Muddy Waters
The Chess Records star

doesnt so much recount his
life story as the entire history
of the blues, from Charley Patton
to the Rolling Stones.
64
The Jam
The self-proclaimed
black sheep of the new wave
explain their outsider status.
Suits, HM Queen and voting
Conservative all feature.
68 Albums
The first offering from The

Clash and The Stranglers. Bob
Marleys Rastaman Vibration is

belatedly assessed.
70Elvis Costello
The bespectacled firebrand

appears in a furious burst of selfconfidence. Dont know how good
he is? Here, let him tell you.
74 Tom Petty
The laid-back Southerner

debuts in England with his
spiky and agreeably
Anglophile rocknroll.
78 Led Zeppelin
Robert Plant gives his

verdict on the new wave. All
round, it seems, hes not too
worried theyre not as young
as youd think, these punks.
84 Television
An in-depth interview
with each member of the
hallucinatory New York rockers.
Features: ego, Eno and Hell.
91 Letters
The Clash write. A telegram

from the Sex Pistols.
4 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1977
sex pistols
pages 10, 20,
40, 98 and 124
RIP Elvis Presley. RIP

Marc Bolan. A posthumous
Bowie/Bolan broadcast.
124 Albums
114
126
Three of Lynyrd
Skynyrd perish. A meeting with
Donna Summer. Introducing
The Fall and their opinionated
spokesperson, Una Baines.
98 Sex Pistols
Outraging Scandinavia,
and introducing new member
Sid Vicious. Topics include:
O-levels, Catholic schools, hippies
and leopard-print shoes.
106 Albums
108 News
New releases
from singer-songwriter
Joan Armatrading, the feisty
Boomtown Rats and Billy Joel.
Never Mind The

Bollocks Heres The Sex
Pistols arrives, as does
Sad Cafes Fanx Ta-Ra.
Stiff Tour
136 Buzzcocks
Mick Jagger stays abreast

of the times and addresses Keith
Richards future prospects.
Benign chaos on the

road with Ian Dury, Costello
and Nick Lowe. Sex, drugs
and record collecting!
140 Keith Moon
118 The Clash
132 David Bowie
Rolling Stones
In Belfast, the band meet

a new enemy: reality. Young punks
remonstrate as the bands gig is
blown for the want of insurance.
Bowie gets inside

Heroes and the pleasures of
working with Brian Eno and the
hilarious Robert Fripp.
Pizza and wry chat with

Pete Shelley in a post-Devoto band.
A trip in a Rolls-Royce to
a punk club, and down memory
lane with the Who drummer.
145 Letters
Elvises of all kinds.

A Hawk writes. Those old Beatles.
Time Inc. (UK) Ltd, 3rd Floor, Blue Fin Building, 110 Southwark St, London SE1 0SU | Editor John Mulvey, whose favourite song
from 1977 is Marquee Moon by Television dEputy Editor John Robinson Damnation Alley by Hawkwind art Editor Lora Findlay
Rip Her To Shreds by Blondie production Editor Mike Johnson Distant Smile by Ultravox art dirEctor Marc Jones Sound And
Vision by David Bowie dEsignEr Becky Redman Three Little Birds by Bob Marley & The Wailers picturE Editor George Jacobs
Easy by The Commodores covEr photo Adrian Boot / Urbanimage.TV thanks to Helen Spivak, James Hanman MarkEting
Charlotte Treadaway suBscriptions Letitia Barry gEnEraL ManagEr Jo Smalley group Managing dirEctor Paul Cheal
covErs and tExt printEd By Wyndeham Group | www.uncut.co.uk
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REx FEATURES, WARInG ABBoTT / GETTy
92 News
1977
JA NUA R Y M A R CH
iggy pop, SEx piStoLS,

pEtER gAbRiEL, Ac/Dc,
RAMoNES AND MoRE
Not
guilty
STONES
NEwS
SpEciAL
NME JAN 15 Keith Richards in court

charged with possession of LSD and
traces of cocaine on a silver chain.
1977
January 11, 1977:

Keith Richards
arrives at Aylesbury
Crown Court
chalkie davies / getty
n Monday Morning, a gold Rolls-Royce

drew up outside Aylesbury Crown Court
and Keith Richards stepped out to face
a two-count indictment alleging possession
of LSD and cocaine.
Keith was white-faced and sombre as he entered
the small courtroom, dressed in a plain black
velvet suit, a white silk shirt and scarf, and stackheeled boots. Charges were read out and both
times Keith answered quietly, Not guilty.
The prosecution described how, just before
4am on May 19, 1976, the police received an
emergency call to investigate an accident on the
southbound section of the M1 motorway near
Newport Pagnell. Richards seriously damaged
Bentley had run off the motorway and into a field,
ploughing through a hedge and fence.
By the car were people: Keith Richards, his
son Marlon, aged seven, an American called
Mr Sessler and two unidentified girls. Taken to
a police interview room, Richards was searched.
In an inside jacket pocket, it was alleged, was
found a folded piece of paper, and inside that
another piece of paper.
Police believed the stain on the second piece of
paper to be LSD and arrested Richards on a charge
of possessing a controlled drug.
Keith was then taken to the Newport Pagnell
police station, while officers searched his car and
found a silver chain, on which were attached
several objects, including a vinaigrette (a scent or
smelling-salt holder dated 1870 and worth 150),
a miniature silver flick knife, a hollow silver tube,
and a car key.
When Keith was shown the chain he denied it
was his, the court was told. Keith, it was said,
informed police that many members of the Stones
and their entourage used the car and that the
silver chain could belong to anyone. Of the jacket
in which the stained paper was discovered he
said, We all wear each others stage clothes.
I dont know what it is.
The court heard that forensic tests showed
the silver tube on the chain to contain traces
(130 milligrams) of an off-white powder,
including 39 milligrams of pure cocaine.
The jury were shown two photographs from
the Stones Leicester concert of May 15, 1976, in
which, it was alleged, the chain that Keith was
wearing was the same as the one found in his car.
1977
J a n u a r y M a r ch
For the defence, Sir Peter Rawlinson,

questioned the right of the police to
search a man involved in a car accident
for drugs, when he was, in the opinion of
the police themselves, under the
influence of neither drink nor drugs.
In evidence, PC Sibbet said his
suspicions were first aroused when he
found some pills in
Keiths bag. However,
Sibbet said, the pills
were later found to be
salt tablets, but on the
strength of that we
searched him.
Det Sgt Bull of the
Thames Valley Drug
Squad described how hollow tubes like the
one on the chain are used to sniff cocaine
and amphetamines. He also said LSD on
paper could be swallowed or sucked.
A forensic scientist told the court that
there was enough LSD on the paper for
one dose, while the antiques officer of
the Thames Valley police was said to
have measured the distances between
the objects on the chain in the car and the
objects on the chain in the Leicester
concert photographs.
After a recess, the defence told the jury

that they should have no preconceived
ideas of what a rock star is like, and should
also bear in mind that fans shower bands
with gifts before, during and after a gig.
Mick Jagger was sat in the public gallery
as Keith took the witness stand and,
when asked by the defence about playing
lead guitar, replied,
It means I make a lot
of noise.
Richards then
described how fans
always throw gifts at
the band autograph
books, jewellery and
food. He maintained
the chain in the photos was different from
the one found in the car: Id never seen it
before the police showed it to me He
said the same thing of the stained paper.
The prosecution voiced its doubts
concerning Richards assertion that the
Stones have a number of jackets the same
size made up for all the group before a
tour. And that was the conclusion of both
Keiths stay in the witness box and day one
of his trial. As NME went to press, the case
was continuing. Tony Parsons
Id never seen it
before the police
showed it to me
MM MAR 19 Indiscreet liaisons. A new

label. Threat of imprisonment. Can the
Stones survive their latest dramas?
he past few weeks have been just like

old times for the Rolling Stones, whose
enduring news value has been emphasised
once again by tales of drugs and scandal.
It all started at the end of February when Keith
Richards and girlfriend Anita Pallenberg were
arrested in Toronto, charged with possession of
heroin for the purpose of trafficking. The offence,
under Canadian law, carries a maximum sentence
of life imprisonment. The following week, when
Richards appeared in court, he was further
charged with possession of cocaine.
Meanwhile, in downtown Toronto, the Rolling
Stones played two shows at the small El Mocambo
club on March 4 and 5. The gigs were not, as some
newspaper reports suggest, unpublicised. The
bands US press agents had invited at least two
major American magazines and among the other
visitors was Margaret Trudeau, the 29-year-old
wife of the Canadian prime minister.
The gossip columns, at the beginning of last
NME MAR 5 Keith on heroinweek, gleefully ran after-the-show stories about
how Mick Jagger had supposedly smoked a
trafficking rap in Canada.
marijuana cigarette in front of Ms Trudeau and
her security men. And she had also, so it was said,
olling Stone Keith Richards and his girlfriend Anita Pallenberg have been
gone to the gigs in preference to celebrating her
busted in Toronto on heroin charges. In Richards case the charge is the very
sixth wedding anniversary with husband Pierre,
serious one of possessing heroin for the purpose of trafficking, an indictment
who remained in Ottawa with their three children.
which carries a maximum life sentence.
Such gossip, however, was mere small fry
All of the Stones had gone to Canada to complete their new live album. On the arrival of
compared with the bizarre events which made
Richards and Pallenberg, Anita was arrested at Toronto International Airport and
headline news a few days later. Margaret Trudeau
charged with possession of hashish and heroin. Police said 10 grams of hash were found,
left Canada for New York at the same time as
along with a spoon which, after laboratory analysis, was said to show traces of heroin.
Jagger and Ron Wood. Despite denials all round,
It was as a result of the ensuing week-long investigation that Royal Canadian Mounted
speculation was rife that she had, in fact, run away
Police and provincial officers from Ontario on Sunday raided Keith Richards hotel
with Jagger.
room and, allegedly, discovered an ounce of heroin worth approximately 600 at street
Further intrigue came when a New York
prices. Keith was arrested and taken to the home of a Toronto Justice Of The Peace. He
columnist claimed that it was Wood not Jagger
was released on $1,000 bail to appear in court on Monday next week. Anita was due to
who was the object of Ms Trudeaus affections. He
appear in court today (Thursday).
can probably tell you more about where Margaret
The Stones had gone to Toronto planning to hire a local club in which to record
is staying than maybe even the prime minister,
material for their upcoming double live album. The NME understands that three sides
reported Suzy of the New York Daily News.
of material are already in the can, comprising cuts from their 1976 US and European
One extraordinary consequence of all these
tours (including Knebworth).
rumours was the drop in value in the
The double live album due later spring/early
Canadian dollar, which fell by one-andsummer will be the Stones last under their
a-half cents against the pound. The
deal with WEA, prior to the switch of Rolling
Stones/ Margaret Trudeau affair was
Stones Records to EMI in the UK.
held, by many commentators, to be a
At press time, representatives of the Stones
contributory factor in this decline. Positive
were insisting that the group would remain in
proof of the power of rocknroll.
Canada to complete the live album project.
On top of all this, Fleet Street had
Richards bust is by far the most potentially
started to speculate on the future of the
serious ever experienced by the group, and
band, with one report even suggesting
comes only weeks after his UK drugs conviction
that the Toronto shows were, in fact, the
in Aylesbury.
Stones last-ever live performances. The
The two events together if the one is
truth, however, is rather more mundane,
proved and the appeal on the other is
even though the sensational headlines of
unsuccessful must now cast an ominous
the past three weeks have tended to
shadow over the Stones future ability to enter
overshadow the bands reason for being in
the United States (with Keith) to tour.
Canada; they are simply fulfilling the terms
of their recording contract.
March 7, 1977:
In 1971, the Stones signed with Kinney
Keith arrives
Records now called WEA after leaving
at Old City hall
An ominous shadow
GLOBE PHOTOS / REX
Further
intrigue
in toronto
NEwS
SpECIAl
STONES
signing with eMI,
not polydor: the
Rolling stones in
New York, 1977
the Decca label. The bands contract had

been one of the most highly prized ducats
in the history of the music business and,
although 21 companies made offers for their
signatures, the Stones eventually decided
on Kinney because of their relationship
with Ahmet Ertegun, founder of the
Atlantic label.
There had been, initially, brave talk about
forming a label which would be distributed
by a new, alternative system, thus cutting
out the big-business middlemen of the major
record companies. Practicality won the day,
however, and Ertegun persuaded the band to
sign with Kinney.
Although the actual details of the Stones
deal were never officially revealed, it is
believed they were paid one million dollars
as an initial advance. Certainly, it was
neither the highest nor the lowest offer
the band received. In return, the Stones
guaranteed to make six albums, starting
with Sticky Fingers.
Album number five,
Black And Blue, was
released in the summer
of last year. At about the
same time, the band
began to shop around for
a new recording deal.
The Stones
representatives,
particularly their business
manager Prince Rupert
Lowenstein, had talks with a number of
companies, including EMI. They, however,
dropped out of the running while the
German-owned Polydor became favourites
for the bands signatures.
By January, Polydor were so confident
of signing the band that details of the
proposed deal leaked out to the press.
The Stones were to be paid in the region
of $850,000 (400,000) for each album
and among the agreed plans was an LP of
re-recorded 60s material.
It was no secret that Polydor were on
the verge of getting the Stones. At MIDEM,
the international music business fair held
in Cannes, France, during late-January,
the company planned to announce the
signing with a press conference and
reception in Sardinia.
All this, however, had to be scrapped at

the last moment because, according to
some reports, the Stones had become
disenchanted with the company as a result
of the press leaks. Other rumours suggest
the band increased their demands, and
the company refused to meet the new
requirements. Whatever the reason,
however, the Stones did not sign with
Polydor, but instead surprised the whole
music industry by announcing, on February
16, a deal with EMI.
Serious negotiations with EMI had
started at the beginning of the year, at
about the same time as Polydor were
confidently expecting to sign the band.
The first time most people at EMI knew
about the deal, however, was when Jagger
was taken around all the companys
departments on February 11.
Again, details of the deal are as closely
guarded as the Kremlins defence budget,
with none of the
companys representatives
prepared to commit
themselves to a precise
figure. The contract,
however, is for six albums
and there is no time limit.
One estimate puts the
contract at 2 million
against a royalty rate of
21 per cent, but this has
not been confirmed.
The deal means the Stones on their own
label will be released by EMI everywhere in
the world, apart from the United States and
Canada. The bands future in North America
obviously, the most lucrative market in the
world has yet to be decided, and this is why
the events of the past few weeks have come
at such a crucial time for the Stones.
The best way of promoting a new album
is by touring, as the Stones proved last year
when they played in Britain at the time of
Black And Blue, their most successful LP in
years. But, if Keith Richards is convicted and
imprisoned or simply banned from the USA
it will obviously reduce the
Stones selling potential.
It is inconceivable that
the band would tour
without Richards.
Before the drug

busts, it is believed
that RSO were
frontrunners for
the bands contract
Margaret, wife
of Canadian pM
pierre trudeau:
Jagger fling?
Before the Toronto drug busts, it is

believed that RSO Robert Stigwoods label
were frontrunners in the competition for
the bands contract. One report put the sum
involved at a staggering $15 million, which
would have been the biggest recording deal
in history. This would have included at least
one film, as well as 10 albums.
Among the other companies seriously
interested in signing the band were Capitol
owned by EMI together with CBS, MCA
and Atlantic. The drug charges, however, are
certain to have brought fresh problems to
the negotiations and, so far, no decision has
been announced by the band.
The Stones plan, nevertheless, to continue
using their own label, no matter which
company eventually signs them for the
United States. But it is not yet clear whether
any, or all, of the old material on the label
(including the Rolling Stones five albums)
will be available to the new company.
The bands own songs, however, have just
been signed to EMI Music, the companys
publishing division. The deal, which is
worldwide, is effective from April 1 and
includes all the Stones compositions during
the past five years.
But before they release anything else, the
Stones have one more album for WEA. And
that is the reason they are in Toronto. The
album, likely to be a double LP, will be a live
recording taken from their concerts over the
past two years.
And the two club gigs, far from being
the bands last-ever stage shows, were
simply an opportunity to cut more material
for the album, which should be released
before the autumn. The first EMI album,
meanwhile, has not even been tentatively
scheduled and a spokesman for the
company said they thought it unlikely to
be released this year.
Anita Pallenberg was fined 220 in Toronto
on Monday for possession of cannabis and
heroin. Robert Partridge
GETTy (2)
1977
1977
J A N U A R Y M A R CH
March 10, 1977: the sex

Pistols and their manager
Malcolm Mclaren sign a
new contract with a&M
outside Buckingham Palace
We shall have to leave Britain

The trials of trying to tour or record when you are the Sex Pistols.
MM JAN 22
The Sex Pistols have finally split from EMI,
less than four months after they signed
a recording contract with the company on
October 16.
Leslie Hill, managing director of EMI
Records, announced this week: In
accordance with the previously stated
wishes of both parties and the verbal
telephone agreement made on Thursday,
January 6, the document terminating the
contract between EMI and the Sex Pistols
has now been agreed.
Malcolm McLaren, manager of the band,
was not available for comment on this
announcement, which brings to an end a long
series of claims and counter-claims made
by McLaren and EMI over the termination
of the bands contract as detailed in MM
last week. No information on financial
compensation for the Pistols on the loss of
their contract has been revealed.
The question of who will sign the Pistols
next remains open. Chrysalis remain among
the contenders, as do CBS, but Polydor are
out of the running. A spokesman for the
company told MM last week that they had
no interest in the Pistols.
Graham Wood/GETTY
NME MAR 12
Sex Pistols are on the brink of signing a new
recording contract. Manager Malcolm
McLaren told NME this week: The
terms of the contract have been
agreed, and we are delighted with our
new deal. All that remains is to put our
signatures on the dotted line. As soon as that

is done, we shall be making an official
announcement later this week.
Meanwhile, as reported last week, Sid
Vicious has replaced Glen Matlock on bass.
According to McLaren, Matlock left because
of his different tastes and other ambitions.
Final word from McLaren: We shall be
signing our new contract in front of
Buckingham Palace!
NME MAR 19
The Pistols main

problem now is
securing venues where
they would be allowed to perform in Britain.
They are hoping to headline a major charity
concert at a London theatre next month, but
this is dependent upon whether the GLC
gives approval at a meeting between the
Council and McLaren later this week.
At present, the Pistols are banned from
appearing in virtually every major city in
Britain owing to local council rulings. Said
McLaren: We want to do dates in major
cities, but the ban is still in effect almost
everywhere. The only possible exceptions
are Liverpool and Newcastle, and they are
by no means definite.
A series of European
dates are being lined up
for the end of April, and
the Pistols are due to
record their first A&M
album in May. If there is
still no relaxation of the
British ban, the Pistols
would then tour Japan,
Australia, the United
States and Canada
where, McLaren assured NME, the band
would be welcomed.
He added: The rest of the country will be
watching our meeting with the GLC. If we are
allowed to perform in London, we hope that
other councils will reverse their decision. If
not, we shall have to wait until after our
overseas tours because if they prove to be
successful and without incident, then maybe
they will open a few doors here at home.
And if all else fails and the Pistols are not
permitted to work in Britain?
We shall have to leave Britain for good,
said McLaren.
If overseas tours
are successful,
maybe they will
open a few doors
here at home
A&M Records have signed

the Sex Pistols. The pact
was sealed, as manager
Malcolm McLaren forecast
in last weeks NME, in
a ceremony outside
Buckingham Palace last
Thursday the significance
being that A&M are rushreleasing the groups new
single God Save The Queen on March 25.
McLaren stressed that the two-year deal
carries a guarantee of 150,000 not
50,000 as was reported in the national
press. He does not anticipate any difficulty
in obtaining BBC and local radio airplay for
the single. Its not a punk-rock version of the
National Anthem, but the boys own genuine
tribute to the Queen, he added.
J A N U A R Y MA RCH
NME MAR 12 Bob Dylans wife files for divorce.

aybe his matzos made crumbs in the bed.
Maybe he played his guitar early in the morning.
Maybe he just had too many visions of Johanna.
Whatever, last week Sara Dylan filed suit for divorce
from her husband Robert Allen Zimmerman on the
grounds of irreconcilable differences. The couple have
been married for 11 years and have five children.
The formidable Mrs Dylan has obviously acquired a taste
for the good life; she is demanding not only custody of the
five kids, but also half Bobbys entire possessions, including
the copyrights to all his songs and their attendant royalties.
For the moment shes making do with exclusive use of the
familys new Malibu home, a $2 million house built in a
highly unorthodox style that was previewed in Thrills some
months back. Sara was apparently largely responsible for
the house being built, while Dylan is reputed to loathe it.
Of the five Zimmerman children, eldest is from Saras
previous marriage. Jesse Dylan is said to be closer to his
father than to Sara, but the others are all evidently closer to
their ma. Friends of the couple have pointed to major
differences in the characters of Bob and Sara, who is a
former model. On the Rolling Thunder Revue, for example,
Sara apparently liked to stay in top-flight hotels, and
carried a large number of trunks for her clothes. Dylan, on
the other hand, seemed as happy to doss down in the trailer
with a change of jeans and T-shirt.
Problems
Bob dylan: faces

handing over
half his royalties
It is also said that he two would go for long periods of time

without speaking to each other, not so much through hate,
but because they had little to say. Others point to the strain
of being married to Bob Dylan, and the strain that his public
life necessarily imposes on the marriage, with attendant
problems about protecting the children and so on.
According to reports from New York, Bob and Sara are
currently meeting with lawyers in an attempt to end the
acrimony since she filed for the divorce this past week.
Friends of the couple have said that one of her charges
was that Bob beat her; others say that he claims she was
hysterical and he merely slapped her, etc. There were also
rumours that Sara was working as a waitress in a
Greenwich Village cafe called The Figaro, but this proved
unfounded. However, it is though that she wants to resume
her career as an actress, for she has been taking workshop
classes at Lee Strasbergs Actors Studio in Los Angeles.
News that the Dylans had split asunder was greeted with
malicious glee from certain of the more cynical members
of Dylans NME fan club, who recall that the last time Dylan
had woman trouble and was separated from Sara, he came
up with Blood On The Tracks, widely reckoned to be his
finest work in years (and perhaps a persuasive element in
Sara and Bob reuniting). Julie Burchill
MM JAN 22 An inflatable pig. A full year recording.

Just what is holding up the new Pink Floyd album?
ink Floyds new year has started with a

technical hitch. The bands new album their first
since Wish You Were Here in 1975 has been hit
by problems over the sleeve design. The album, called
Animals, was to have been released on January 14. But
this week Pink Floyds manager, Steve ORourke, told the
Melody Maker: There have been problems with the
artwork for the sleeve. Its nothing serious, but it means
weve not been able to keep to the original release date.
We still havent fixed a definite date, although we
hope to decide that over the weekend. It looks as though
the sleeve will be ready in time for us to release the album
on January 28.
This setback comes at the beginning of a vital three
months for the Floyd, a period when they step back into
the limelight. Although they have long since proved
themselves one of Britains biggest bands, the Floyd have
been virtual recluses for well over a year. Their last British
concert appearance was at the 1975 Knebworth Fair, a
spectacular open-air show which even featured a Spitfire
flying overhead. That concert was followed, in
September 1975, by the release of Wish You Were Here.
Since then, however, nothing has been heard about the
bands activities apart, that is, from the 50-foot flying
pig which, last month, was flown over Londons Battersea.
Photographs of the pig will be used on the Animals sleeve.
The band spent the whole of last year recording the

new album, claims ORourke. It was finished and ready
for release by Christmas, although of course we were
then held up by the sleeve problems.
The album, which features just three tracks, called
Dogs, Pigs and Sheep, comes at a crucial time for
the band, who since Dark Side Of The Moon, have
become victims of their own success. Their last album, for
instance, sold extremely well by most bands standards,
although it was commonly regarded as something of
a flop for the Floyd. Wish You Were Here, which received
only lukewarm reviews from the critics when it was
released, stayed in the Melody Maker chart for 22 weeks
and failed to make the No 1 position.
It had been, of course, completely overshadowed by
the extraordinary success of Dark Side Of The Moon,
which first entered the chart on March 31, 1973. Although
it, too, strangely failed to reach No 1, the album spent a
total of 128 weeks in the chart, a feat rivalled only by Mike
Oldfields Tubular Bells.
Even now, Dark Side Of The Moon makes occasional
appearances in the MM chart. The album also established
the Floyd in the United States, where it was the bands
first chart-topping album. Such phenomenal success is
virtually impossible for the band to repeat, although all
the Floyds subsequent albums will be inevitably
compared to Dark Side Of The Moon.
To promote Animals, therefore, the band have
chosen to return to the British concert stage this
spring, their first shows for 18 months. They play
four concerts at Londons Wembley Empire Pool,
from March 17 to 20, and then four shows at the huge
Stafford New Bingley Hall, from March 28 to 31.
A top-security
blanket has been
thrown around
EMIs plans to
release a Beatles
live album in midspring. Reason for
the secrecy isnt
clear, as its known
that original Beatle
producer George
Martin is remixing
the tapes of their
1964-65 Hollywood
Bowl Concerts and
that The Beatles
themselves have
given their
go-ahead for the
project. Release is
planned for May,
backed by massive
TV promotion,
utilising film
footage from the
Bowl concerts.
NME MAR 26
Generation X
lead guitarist Bob
Andrews was
hospitalised on
Friday night after
being hit on the
head by a flying
beer mug while
playing the Easter
Ball at Leicester
Universitys Clare
Hall. Generation X
and The Boys, who
were supporting,
had been receiving
a hail of plastic cups
and empty beer
cans, but halfway
through the
headliners set full
cans and glasses
started flying.
Andrews dropped
to the floor, covered
in blood but still
playing, and later
had a couple of
stitches in the gash.
One observer
termed the
aggressors Led
Zeppelin heavies,
while another had
them down as the
rugby club. The
Damned and The
Stranglers recently
spent an evening
dodging beer cans
at Essex University.
NME MAR 19
ron GalElla / GETTY
Long periods of time

without speaking
1977
1977
September 11, 1977: David

Bowie at Elstree Studios
near London, where he
appears on the upcoming
TV special Bing Crosbys
Merrie Olde Christmas
Hes into
something
new
D
MELODY MAKER JANUARY 29
AVID BOWIES lASt image, as a kind of wasp-waisted

performer in a Weimar cabaret, would hardly prepare one
for reports of the figure hes currently cutting in Berlin,
where he now lives. It seems that the famous red hair, now
returned to its original mousey colour, has been scalped to
a crew cut, that hes grown the curving moustache of a
prosperous brgermeister, and having put on some weight, and wearing a cap
pulled down low, he spends his time frequenting both the cultural
establishments and workingmens haunts of that city.
More Gnter Grass than Joel Grey, he obviously continues in his fascination
with all things German, which reached notorious proportions early last
summer in his well-publicised speech about fascism.
None of this will much surprise keen Bowie watchers, who have observed
his bewildering metamorphoses from an acoustic performer and mime
artist to an ambiguous commentator upon rock stardom with Ziggy, a doommongerer with Diamond Dogs, a moon-age soul singer with Young Americans
and Station To Station, and the star of Nicolas Roegs futuristic art film, The
Man Who Fell To Earth.
Its not difficult to see why Bowie is the most interpreted, and the most
reviled, rock star of this generation. Hes consistent only in the diversity of his
actions. He doesnt respond in the ways expected of rock stars when each tour
he presents a different public face and no two albums are truly alike.
Eclectic to a fault, unlike all other major rock performers he has wilfully
neglected to define his own oeuvre, beyond reflecting a certain preoccupation
as a lyricist with a technological future and as a musician with mutations of
mainstream styles.
While undeniably a stylist, as is borne out by the attractive pastiches of Pin
Ups, he has too much artistic substance to justify that as a condemnation.
Diamond Dogs, for example, despite its musical roughness, seems
increasingly to me a classic projection of a lost and rabid society, even
though I was indifferent to it when it was released.
Similarly, although I still dont much like a lot of Young Americans
and find it rather empty, I can nevertheless appreciate the different
perspective he brought to white soul, which at first seemed merely
parodic. Perhaps, therefore, much critical distrust of him may have
two origins: in his refusal to stand still and be explained, and in the
coldness and isolation, the cerebration evident at the heart of his work,
which puts off critics and record-buyers who have become accustomed
rex features
Litigation and
synthesizers.
Dysentery and Iggy
Pop. Disguises, Eno
and muzak. From
these strange
bedfellows comes
DAVID BOWIEs
mysterious new album
Low. Hes so full of
ideas, I have to edit
him, explains
Tony Visconti. Its
too intense to be
around him.
1977
RobeRta bayley / getty
I dont think Ive had such

an influence on him as the
press has made out: Brian
Eno, who co-composed
Warszawa and Art
Decade on side two of Low
to the warmth and responsiveness of the rocknroll tradition, a tradition

that he has gone out of his way to usurp.
Of all his records, the new album, Low, is the most controversial, and
right in the target-line of this critical bias. Its radically different from
Station To Station, because it appears to have been conceived as a mood
album. Its creation revolves around the synthesizer; the vocals on the
first side are brief, and on the second, which consists of four electronic
instrumentals, they are used only as textural aids. Furthermore, the
mood, even as far as its expressed in whatever lyrics there are, is utterly
bleak and depressed, as the albums title would suggest.
Yet for several reasons Low strikes me as a remarkable record, and
certainly the most interesting Bowie has made. Its so thoroughly
contemporary, less in its pessimism, perhaps, though thats deeply
relevant to these times, that in its musical concept: the logic of bringing
together mainstream pop in the albums disco bass-and-drums and
conventional lyric and experimental music perfectly indicates what
could be the popular art of the advanced society we are moving into, in
a way that the Rolling Stones, say, or even the Sex Pistols, whose music
relies totally upon its black-derived rhythms, could not hope to express.
The devices of experimental music are scattered throughout the album
for instance in his employment of phoneticism (on Warszawa and
Subterraneans) and the reduction and unspecific nature of language
but in themselves they are not unusual; after all, the German groups like
Kraftwerk and Tangerine Dream have also devised superior muzak, and
the synthesizer has long been a staple weapon even in the vulgar hands of
ELP. But its interesting not only that Bowie is moving across the tracks
from the lyric and vocal tradition, unlike these bands, but that hes also
an artist who to a large extent has a fan following, far more populist
than T Dream or ELP.
The successful synthesis of popular and experimental music
described by Brian Eno, who played a major role in the making of Low, as
two parallel mainstreams will more likely be achieved by a popular artist
such as Bowie who has a greater understanding of, and intimacy with, the
mass audience. In this context, Low is quite a daring venture for a
performer whose modus operandi ie, the size of his tours and venues,
the cost of his albums, etc is determined by the charts.
An artist of the same magnitude, like Stevie Wonder, for example, may
have a better appreciation of synthesizers and have more satisfactorily
assimilated electronics into (black) pop music, but hes always respected
the conservatism of his audience and used this knowledge to enhance his
abilities rather than transform the nature of his music.
On the other hand, Lou Reeds Metal Machine Music, an album

which invites some comparison with Low, seems like a bizarre
aberration, or certainly an eccentricity, because our past
experience of him as a deadpan lyricist, often working the theme
of decadence, doesnt prepare us to believe in the experiment;
moreover, it had limited influence because RCA didnt promote it.
RCA, it appears, have also been dismayed by Low. The album
should have been out for Christmas (the deadline for its recording
was November 16), but RCA executives freaked because they
werent sure how to market it. Some of them thought they had
another Metal Machine Music on their hands.
There is also a story that Tony Defries, who managed Bowie
during his rise to stardom, and has retained his proprietary
manner, tried to have the album stopped on the grounds that
there werent enough vocals and it would damage Bowies career.
All of which has been disproved by Bowies seemingly automatic
entry into the charts.
According to Tony Visconti, the American who co-produced Low
with Bowie and who has worked with him since 1967, Bowie was
determined to surprise everyone with Low out of a fear, irrational
though it may appear, of seeming predictable.
To promote the last two albums he must have done more than 200
shows, says Visconti, whose wife, the former Mary Hopkin, sings
briefly on Sound And Vision. He was absolutely tired of being
RCAs sure thing, and he also felt he was losing his pioneer spirit.
David described the album to me as far back as July, because he
asked me if I could produce Iggys album first and then his own,
which he said was going to be very revolutionary.
He was trying to produce Jimmys [Osterberg, Iggys real name]
album at the Chateau dHerouville, but he said the engineers were
proving hopeless. I told him it was impossible for me, and just to do
his best. (The album, in fact, is called The Idiot, based upon a
painting Bowie found, dating from 1906, of a man who Visconti says
bears a striking resemblance to Iggy Pop.)
Visconti, however, was enthusiastic about helping to record what was
then being called New Music Night And Day, a title designed to express
the difference between sides one and two, which in the planning stages
was even more radical. Bowie intended both sides to be absolutely
contrasting, but the first was meant to be raw rocknroll, not the
strange rockmusak thats resulted, where two of the cuts, Speed Of
Life and A New Career In A New Town, even have no vocal at all.
What happened, explains Visconti, was that Bowie then laid down
10 tracks in the style of the first side and was going to abandon the idea
of two different sides but for the event that he developed something of
a mental block about the lyrics.
Ever since The Man Who Sold The World he has written the lyrics after
the music, but in this case he couldnt come up with more than one verse
for some things, which is why a lot of the tracks fade out.
His mood was far from optimistic when we were recording at the
Chateau. It was absolutely the worst. A lot of things were happening to
him, and we had a lot of setbacks. For one thing, we found the studio
totally useless. The people who now own it dont seem to care. We all
came down with dysentery. David and I were in bed for two days.
Also, he chose the Chateau to get away from all those people in
America, but they all found out where he was. He really is too gregarious
for his own good, hes too kind, and he just couldnt tell them to fuck off.
So we got no work done.
The album was finished, in fact, in a week and a half at Hansa By The
Wall, a studio in the old West End of Berlin. They were watched by East
German border guards as they recorded.
More distressingly, Bowie was suing his immediately previous
manager, Michael Lippman, in Paris. There were several reasons for
the dissolution of their association, but Bowie maintained for one that
Lippman pledged he would get the right to score The Man Who Fell To
Earth, which eventually went to John Phillips.
Subterraneans, the last track on Low, was actually composed for the
soundtrack, which Bowie worked on with Paul Buckmaster.
He was away for about four days in Paris, dealing with this deposition,
says Visconti, and he was absolutely down for that month. I must say I
have great respect for him for calling it Low, cause thats exactly what he
was. The reason there are not that much lyrics is that he had absolutely
nothing to say; there was nothing outside himself. So I think for the first
time in his lyrics hes really saying something about himself.
DAVID BOWIE
The decision to persevere with the two-side concept was further

promoted during Bowies absence in Paris, when Eno wrote Warszawa,
the piece that begins side two. Bowie apparently said it reminded him
of a Polish choir he had heard as a child, and a Polish vocal was added
in reality some phonetic speech slowed down and then speeded up
so that he sounds, in his own phrase, like a 12-year-old Polish boy
glorifying the Socialist state.
Enos involvement with Low was important but not crucial, as has been
suggested. He was only at the Chateau for one week in the whole of the
September they recorded there, and is on just two of the four tracks on the
second side. Nevertheless, his records, like those of the German groups
T Dream, Neu! and Kraftwerk, had a catalytic effect. Indeed, when Eno
got to the Chateau he was astonished to find that both Iggy and Bowie
could hum, note for note, No Pussyfooting, the electronic album he made
with Bob Fripp.
Several of Enos hypotheses and attitude towards music, such as the
artistic potential of muzak, are shared by Bowie, he feels. Eno, for
instance, is approaching the Planned Music Company, which markets
muzak in this country, with a view to producing records for them that are
not only environmental but which also express that tension between
doubt and certainty that creates art ambient music, he calls it, that
works in the same way as nice lighting: it tints the environment.
Hes been encouraged in this belief by the commercial success of his
own Discreet Music on the Obscure label; low-definition music that is
apparently popular at dinner parties, it puts the fun into functional.
I think this is something that Bowie is interested in as well, he argues.
The point of using phonetics, I believe, was to get rid of the language
element. If you use language you cannot but help lead the mind in a
particular way. As soon as theres language it creates a focus, and its very,
very difficult not to accept that as the central point of the piece, with the
other instruments ranked, or arranged, round it, supporting it.
Now if you want to have music thats got a drifting aspect to it, its very
hard to make lyrics that will fit. I think he has just become aware of this
problem of focus in a piece of music, of how much you want and how much
you dont want. One of the interesting questions that all those German
bands brought up was that they produced music that was very unfocal it
had a lot of drift in it, if you like, whereas rock
music has traditionally had a lot of anchorage.
Like myself, he was very impressed by
the other tradition the kind of vocal rock
tradition so the problem of the age, as far as
Im concerned, is to bring those two things
together comfortably. Thats why the record
is experimental.
When I did Another Green World I had a
problem because I had some numbers of this
drifting nature, and others that were songs.
I solved the problem by mixing them all up
together, so the dichotomy isnt so evident as if
one had put them on separate sides. I could have
done it one side as songs and one as
instrumentals and to tell you the truth, the
reason I didnt was because I didnt dare.
I thought, this is gonna be too bizarre to
do. I thought it would indicate that I
thought these two things to be unrelated
to one another. So I admire him for what
he did. But I dont think Ive had such an
influence on him as the press has made
out, or assumed. It is his album, and he got
in touch with me because I think he
recognised that I was in a similar position.
I know he liked Another Green World a
lot, and he mustve realised that there were
these two parallel streams of working
going on in what I was doing, and when
you find someone with the same problem
you tend to become friendly with them.
In fact, Eno suspects Bowie strongly
influenced his own approach to music
concerning the marketing of disposable
records, a corollary of his fascination
with muzak.
He said when he first heard Discreet Music, he could imagine in the

future that you would go into supermarkets and there would be a rack of
ambience records, all in very similar covers.
And this is my addition they would just have titles like Sparkling, or
Nostalgic, or Melancholy or Sombre. They would all be mood titles,
and so cheap to buy you could chuck them away when you didnt want
them any more.
Bowie, by all accounts, is said to lead a rigorous intellectual life.
According to Visconti, he literally assaults himself with ideas. In Berlin he
has been going in art galleries almost every day; his knowledge of art
approaches that of a connoisseur, Visconti claims.
Every time I go there hes into something new. Also, hes the only guy
who, when hes on tour, never stays in his hotel room. He always puts on
a disguise and goes out onto the streets.
The last time I was in Berlin we went out to a working-class place,
a kind of Hammersmith Palais. And there are all the drag clubs which
are quite respectable over there. He really wants to know what people
are doing and thinking.
We can work together because hes a very non-technical person
he probably couldnt change a plug and I can translate what he wants.
Im a very, very fast worker, so hes not frustrated with me, and Im an
arranger and a musician as well [Visconti plays bass]. But hes so full of
ideas, if anything, I have to edit him. In fact, its too intense to be around
him for any length of time.
Eno also pays tribute to his intellectual curiosity, pointing out that
Bowie has resisted every encouragement from the music industry
not to be interesting. In a sense, Eno says, I think that most of his
albums are quite experimental in that they strike me as always being
to do with hybridising things. Hes quite conscious of being eclectic.
Low is a transitional record, you see, as most records are by people who
are interesting.
Yet Bowie impresses even his friends as being fundamentally detached
from people. Certainly hes contemptuous of the music industry and
press, but also none of his personal friends, its said, are musicians, apart
from Iggy (whom he now manages) and perhaps his guitarist, Carlos
Alomar, with whom he has a very good working relationship. (Visconti
says that Fame grew out of Alomars riff to
a version of Springsteens Its Hard To Be A
Saint In The City, which Bowie was producing
in Philadelphia for a three-piece including
Ava Cherry and Warren Peace called The
Astronettes. Because of business hassles,
the group never appeared on record.)
Visconti is one of his oldest friends, and he
maintains that Bowie takes pride in being
emotionless. Ive seen him at the edge of
despair, but as far as marriage and love are
concerned, he claims to be above it. Everything
goes to his head and not his heart.
Be My Wife, therefore, whose emotional
message could not be more explicit, would
appear to be an unusually unguarded
moment in the career of an artist who has
generally heeded that dictum of Arnold
Wesker: that an action taken without
intellect is flabby and sentimental.
Whether Low is yet another role for the
cracked actor or, as I think, an inspired
attempt at creating truly modern rock
music or even, as is possible, both of
those options it cannot by called
flabby. At the very least, though Bowie
may be a snake, his twists and turns are
as extraordinary to behold as the
periodic sheddings of his appearance.
In the meantime, he continues to live
abroad, perhaps for the next two years,
and perhaps still in Berlin, a walled-in
city that is stuffed with all the benefits
of civilised culture. Berlin lacks only
one attribute, but that a major one: the
beauty of nature. And where in David
Bowie will you find that? Michael Watts
Most of his
albums are to
do with
hybridising
things
1977
We aint
geniuses
The RAMONES make
a second album, and
spend a very strange
evening hanging out
with PHIL SPECTOR.
Later, they ponder their
reputation. They call
us assholes, says
stealth Eric Clapton
fan Tommy Ramone.
I guess we really
get to them.
kate simon
MELODY MAKER JANUARY 1
ew York: The evening began, somewhat ominously, with a slow ride

in an antiquated elevator whose door didnt close. Ten floors later, its
passengers emerged in Redfield Sound, a small rehearsal studio on West
20th Street where a buffet meal was served with champagne. Nuggets was
playing quietly through studio speakers, an apt choice since Lenny Kaye,
who compiled these relatively obscure tracks onto one album, was
prominent among the throng.
The occasion was the first public hearing of the Ramones second album, Ramones Leave
Home, which, after the invited listeners had been given an opportunity to get suitably wired
on alcohol and/or pungent smoking mixture, was played very loudly to the assembled guests.
Three of the Ramones were present, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy, all dressed in the
obligatory jeans, tennis shoes and leather jackets. Joey, the singer, is currently in hospital,
where he may have to have an operation on his ankle; he was represented by his brother.
Also on hand was John Camp, the bass player for Renaissance, whose music seems at the
absolute opposite end of the music spectrum to that of the Ramones. Significantly, Camp
declined to be photographed with the three Ramones present. Renaissance, of course, record
for Sire in the US, as do the Ramones.
While sophisticated would not be quite the right word, the Ramones second-floor effort is
a good deal less raw than their first. Greater attention has been paid to the production, which
makes the overall picture a lot less amateurish than before. Theyve discovered echo, and this
takes away that rather flat, droning vocal sound and adds immensely to the numerous guitar
riffs.
Once again therere 14 tracks that make up just over 30 minutes, and consequently each
song averages out at just over a couple of minutes. There are no guitar solos, no slow songs and
just one non-original, California Sun. The urgency
is still there and on at least one track you can hear Dee
Dee Ramones frenzied count-in which stands out so
much in their live shows.
Coupled with their new-found studio inventiveness
is the use of vocal harmony, hitherto scorned in
favour
of vocal unison. One track sounded uncannily like the
early Who, in the days when Roger Daltrey was
experimenting with a not-quite-falsetto vocal style,
while another reminded me of the Stones, circa
Between The Buttons, probably because the
instrumentation was sparser than usual.
But the majority of tracks exude that manic, urgent
approach to an instant flash of song that marked the
first album. Ideas are never developed, just exposed
Joey Ramone: known as

Jeffrey Hyman before
adopting the alias Jeff
Starship as lead singer with
glam-punk band Sniper in
1972, then co-founding the
Ramones two years later
1977
flat and brutal, over before theyve almost begun and only occasionally
memorable. So many instant tracks played so fast back to back make
it extraordinarily hard to differentiate between one and another,
especially when the mix favours the guitarist rather than the singer.
I didnt catch one title, apart from California Sun, yet the lyrics
seemed to deal with boy/girl relationships rather than violence or gluesniffing, a gesture that will surely find sympathy with people who make
up radio playlists.
We spent at least twice as long making this album as we did on the
first, guitarist Johnny Ramone told me after the album had been played.
He could not, though, remember just how long that was: Most of
November, I think.
Despite the punk image of the Ramones, Johnny, like his colleagues, is
an amiable enough fellow even if he is not too bright. Its difficult to prise
more than a couple of sentences from his reluctant mouth.
We like to get the idea of a song across quick, leave out all the slack and
play fast, said Johnny when I commented on the length of the tracks.
We try to write a song a day when were due to record. Well get up in the
morning and say, Lets write a song today, and get on with it. Sometimes
it takes 30 minutes and sometimes it takes the whole day. Then we
rehearse it to get it right until we play it on stage.
We even had a few songs that we didnt even bother to record, and one
that we recorded but left off the album. We wanted to keep it to 14 tracks.
Johnny was particularly vague about the cancelled British tour with
the Sex Pistols. He had wanted to go over but manager Danny Fields
decided against it and the group seem to have little say in business
matters, probably a wise state of affairs.
I enjoyed the last time we went to England, said Johnny. I remember
playing the Roundhouse on July 4, Independence Day, and that was fun.
It seemed that the dates on this last tour werent so good, so Danny
cancelled it, but were due back in February or March.
The Ramones will play some dates in New York over the Christmas
period provided that Joeys ankle has healed up, then spend early New
Year in California before coming to England.
At the end of the evening a young, dark-haired girl opened her blouse
to reveal a perfect figure. The gesture,
largely unnoticed, was enough. We spent
the evening prodding each other with
safety pins. Chris Charlesworth
NME MAY 21
EY MAN! plEAds a panicstricken Dee Dee Ramone.
If ya hit me, I aint gonna hit
ya back! Ive got too much respect for ya!
Anyway, I dont know how many armed
bodyguards ya got hidden in the kitchen
wholl come burstin through the door
with their guns blazin if I do!
Nevertheless, Dee Dee stands his ground.
Arms pressed rigidly against the sides of the body, fists
clenched, eyes half-closed, bracing himself for a KO punch
that is never launched.
Just leave me alone will ya!! he hollers defiantly at Phil
Spector who, after handing me his automatic pistol for safe
keeping, is executing a fast Ali shuffle inches in front of his
distraught house guest.
Joey, Johnny and Tommy silently anticipate the next move. If
theres got to be a rumble, theyre ready if somewhat reluctant.
I came over here this evening at your invitation, pleads
Dee Dee, whos no longer talking to Spector but screaming at
him at the top of his powerful lungs, to admire your house,
listen to your music and party, not to fight with ya, so just cut it
out, before someone gets hurt!
I dont think Dee Dees referring to himself. The blank cutesy
mask that usually adorns Dee Dees fresh features has in
seconds become screwed into an expression of terminal angst.
The kids confused.
Dee Dee R-A-M-O-N-E I mean thats your name? Spector
continues taunting, I was also brought up on the streets of
New York, so lets see if youve learnt anything one on one
So whatcha waiting for!
The evening had commenced quite favourably. As soon as the

Ramones scene-maker Rodney Bingenheimer and yours truly had
arrived at the heavily fortified Chez Spector, we had been made to feel
most welcome. In fact, it appeared that Spector was on his best behaviour.
First, the youngest of Spectors three kids had dashed up to Joey and
after taking stock of his height had asked, Are you a basketball player?
No, the embarrassed stick insect had replied.
Are you sure youre not a basketball player? was the repeated enquiry.
Sure! affirmed Joey, precariously rocking from side to side on his long,
spindly legs.
From the moment we entered the room, it was obvious that Phil Spector
was fascinated by Joey Ramones quirky charisma, in very much the same
way as he had been enamoured by Blondies Debbie Harry, a couple of
weeks earlier.
J-O-E-Y R-A-M-O-N-E J-O-E-Y R-A-M-O-N-E, Spector would trill
in admiration like a cracked record. If he could transmogrify Debbie into
a 70s version of Ronnie Spector, then Joey was Dions heir apparent.
Spector made no secret of the fact that in Joey he sensed the kind of
dormant potential from which Great Phil Spector Productions are made.
No pussyfooting: Spector expressed a desire to produce a Joey Ramone
solo album.
Flattery didnt get Spector anywhere. After hours of discussing the
matter, Joey politely informed his new-found fan that the Ramones are a
four-man democracy and that theyve made no contingency plans for
individual projects.
Not to be deterred. Spector insisted that the Ramones would never be
bigger than they are right now. He suggested a possible label change.
I can make you into the stars that you want to be, he claimed.
They listened to what he had to say. Seemingly, money was no obstacle.
He quoted telephone-number guarantees. The Ramones were impressed.
The Ramones were dumbstruck. The Ramones became confused.
Communication breakdown and a rapid deterioration in detente.
Part of Phil Spectors home entertainment often includes the sort
of bizarre black-comedy antics Ive described. Pushing unsuspecting
visitors beyond their limits and then observing how they react. One
day itll backfire. Dee Dee refuses to allow Spector to get the
better of him.
Im neurotic, blurts the exasperated Ramone. And, of
all people, you should appreciate what that means!
That remark stops Spector dead in his tracks. Spector
apologises profusely for his behaviour and a less-thanmemorable soiree reaches an anticlimax.
ramones
s THE TITlE of their second album

implies, the Ramones left the comparative
safety of their home in Queens, clad only
in the threadbare clothes they stood up in, to
discover Middle America. Heres the crunch.
Except for a few big cities, Middle America
hadnt heard of the Ramones. Thats when the
trouble started.
Being Big In Britain, A Cult On The Continent
just didnt cut it with the hard-nosed proprietors
of singles bars where nobody wearing leather,
denim and sneakers was admitted.
To make matters worse, $250 a gig doesnt
cover $500-a-day road expenses.
Things are a bit better for the Ramones out
here on the West Coast, but only just
Earlier in the day, I ran the Ramones to
ground in LAs Tropicana Motel an infamous
rocknroll pit-stop which may have long since
seen better days, but still boasts the best and
cheapest coffee shop in town. Nobody serves
grease better than Dukes.
The Ramones seemed quite at home in its claustrophobic confines.
Apart from a pile of old comics and rock papers on the floor, the
only other signs of occupation were Dee Dees sweat-soaked sneakers
drying in the sun outside the bathroom window and a small black leather
hand-grip stuffed with clean T-shirts.
When the Ramones leave home, they travel light.
When, in the first weeks of this year, the Ramones released their second
LP, our man Murray confirmed in his review what so many people have
already felt about the Blank Generations Mop Tops that unlike most
groups who achieve immortality via a Saturday-morning television
cartoon series, the Ramones bypassed the Jackson Five/Archies route
by at least five years and manifested themselves as real-life cartoon
characters the moment they stepped on stage at CBGB a couple of years
back and realised they outnumbered their audience. The Ramones have
confounded the sceptics by demonstrating that they are far from being a
one-off ephemeral phenomenon.
Dee Dee plays bass. A rehabilitated ex-doper, he confesses that he
used to live in a glue bag. Thats him squatting barefoot on the floor
remarking that if the rips in the knees of Joeys denims get much bigger
hell be wearing Bermuda shorts. Joeys the tall gangling one. He was
the neighbourhood outcast
until the rest of the band
befriended him. No cartoonist
ever dreamt up such an original
character. Joey sings. Hes also
very shy.
The guy who just took the
phone off the hook is Johnny.
He talks very fast, plays buzz
guitar and thinks a lot.
Tommy plays drums. He
acts tough. Probably fights
dirty. Hes reclining on the bed
tucking his dime-store shades
into his tangled hair. They
remind me of the Bowery Boys!
Tommy speaks first.
Ya know a lotta people
didnt even think we could put
out a first album.
His tone was cynical. They
said, These guys are great live,
but can they do it again? We
have. But I guess theyll probably
always say that about us!
Joey nods silently in
agreement. Tommy argues
that just because the Ramones
music is humorous, there are
The Ramones in 1977:
those who refuse to take the
(lr) Dee Dee, Joey,
Tommy and Johnny
group seriously.
We missed
the spirit of
the 60s that
good-time
feeling
ITHOUT GOING INTO boring detail, the roots of the

Ramones are to be found amongst the remnants of
innumerable aborted high school garage bands, but
according to Johnny, the Ramones banded together for a different
reason from those groups theyd been associated with.
Wed been friends for about 10 years or so, and we were just getting
bored with music. We just couldnt take it any longer.
We all seemed to miss the spirit of the 60s, interjects Tommy from the
bed. All that good-time feeling has gone. Rock got too progressive, which
is fine if you like that kinda thing, but we felt there was a desperate need
for the great rock feel of bands like The Kinks and the Stones.
Tommy continues. Where we come from, theres a great guitarist on
every block. I guess its the same in every neighbourhood, like youll
always find a good tenor sax player in every big apartment building. So
its no big deal any more.
When Eric Clapton came along it was great, but now theres a million
kids playing Clapton guitar licks. Maybe theyre not playing them quite as
good, but theyre playing em just the same. Everything became too slick.
The excitement had gone. There were no pop songs.
So we wrote some songs we wanted to hear, says Johnny. The only
reason that the Ramones came into existence was simply because
American radio has become so low-energy. Im certain You Really Got
Me or Do Wah Diddy Diddy wouldnt stand a chance on the radio if they
had come out now instead of the mid-60s.
At least England managed to move into the 70s with singles bands like
T Rex and Slade, but most of their records didnt get airplay in America.
Though press coverage has been forthcoming, the Ramones have
received restricted airplay.
Were working on that one, admits Tommy.
Could be that the Ramones new surf single, Sheena Is A Punk Rocker,
will resolve any imbalance. If it doesnt then we might all as well pack up
and go home. Any buzz-saw band that persistently plays at 78rpm must
have a head start over the rest of the pack. Thats, of course, unless they
run out of energy.
We usually wear out audiences before we wear out ourselves, insists
Ramone Johnny.
And were getting faster every day. We listen to our second album, and
thats faster than our first, and even that sounds real slow. Our normal set
consists of 17 songs and takes 30 minutes to perform. A month ago, the
same set lasted 37 minutes.
When we played Seattle the other week, he reveals, we knocked up
17 songs, took a five-minute break, came back , played another 14 songs,
a couple of encores, and we still hadnt been on stage for an hour. The only
trouble is, it tends to make us feel faint! Roy Carr
roberta bayley / getty
We aint geniuses, brags Tommy, but we sure

aint dumb. A dumb person couldnt write out lyrics.
We just tell it like it is. And, in a way that most kids
can understand.
Gabba-Gabba-Hey!
Perhaps, I proffer, any schmuck smear is
just a backlash from those people whose
musical tastes have become too sophisticated?
The remark doesnt register with anyone in
the room.
I draw pictures. I get a minimal response.
They call us shitheads, says Tommy, they
call us assholes I guess we really get to them.
A cruel smile decorates the edge of his mouth.
They just dont understand what rocknroll is
really all about!
A product of trash culture, the Ramones soak
up inspiration from movies, comic books, TV
and every other form of instant mass media,
like bread soaks up gravy. This particular
afternoon, they get inspired.
To a man, theyre intrigued by a news item on TV about someone
with over 20 dogs and cats who died in an apartment and has been
devoured by his/her pets. The pathologist, says the newscaster, has yet
to sex the skeleton.
I think, jests Johnny, well probably write a song about that. Anyway,
rocknroll should be a fun thing. You dont have to go out on stage and
yell at the crowd, Ya wanna boogie! Ya wanna rocknroll? Yall high?
1977
The SEX PISTOLS enter

Europe. Behind them: Bill
Grundy, tabloid outrage and
a dispute with their label,
EMI. Ahead: an unimpressed
Dutch crowd and some long
negotiations. We just acted
our natural selves, says Paul
Cook. It just beats me.
alamy
The
more madder
the better
The Sex Pistols in
early 1977: (lr) Paul
Cook, Glen Matlock,
Steve Jones and
Johnny Rotten
1977
Right, you fuckers,
were gonna do one
more: Rotten, at
the behest of his
manager, cues up
another encore
NME JANUARY 15
msterdams Paradiso is much bigger than
Id imagined it to be at least twice the size of the
Marquee, for instance, with the ambience of a much
friendlier Roundhouse, a balcony, two quirky bars,
pool and pinball, a high (five-foot) stage with
stained-glass windows behind, and hardly any sign
of the public dope scene for which its famous.
Two black guys morosely attempt to sell cocaine outside as Guardian
rock writer Robin Denselow and I shuffle in just in time for The Vibrators
opening number.
For most of the audience, No Fun is their first taste of live English
punk rock, and there could hardly be a better way to start: tongue-incheek nihilism, stampeding guitars and grotesque flash. Theyre
amused, seem to enjoy it, give it quite a good reception. The Vibrators
set is reviewed in full in On The Town.
Backstage, The Heartbreakers and Sex Pistols wander in as The
Vibrators wander out. After a while theres a completely different
population in the concrete-box dressing room, and I sidle over and set
up the tape machine next to Pistols drummer Paul Cook.
Michael Ochs archives / getty
Paul Cook: You done the one at the Undred Club

that time, didnt ya?
Nme: Yeah, a long, long time ago.
Glen matlock: Was you the bloke that was gonna
split down the middle?
Nme: No, the main thing ive written about you
was in the stranglers piece, actually
Cook: Luring em into saying naughty things.
[Hugh Cornwell had called Rotten a paranoid
clown.]
Nme: People were saying at the time what a bad
deal it was for the Pistols, running into all this
trouble, and it seemed to me if anything it was
helping you, because you were getting all these
front pages. i mean, youre a household name
now. But i must admit it seems to have changed
somewhat since then.
matlock: Backfired? In some ways, yeah. Its all
part of it, though, isnt it, all the mad hassle. The
more madder the better.
Nme: i dont know how you stand the pressure
of it, though.
Cook: Were used to it already. I just think its
a load of bollocks. I dont know why they all
write about it.
matlock: You dont believe it till youve been the
other side of it really.
Cook: Like that thing at the airport. Im not
kidding, straight up, we couldnt believe it when
we got over here. Someone phoned up, said this
that and the other we just couldnt believe it.
There was a press bloke waiting, I suppose; just
waiting at the airport for something to appen.
We just acted our natural selves. It just beats me.
Nme: Wasnt there anything at all?
Cook: Nothing. Really. The bloke from EMI was
with us all the time. He would have said if there
was, but he didnt.
Nme: ive heard youre gonna refuse to let them
[emi] break the contract.
Cook: Come on, were not just gonna let em
say, Get off the label, do this, do that.
Nme: You wouldnt rather just go
somewhere else?
Cook: Thats the point, innit? Were
just letting Malcolm sort it out.
matlock: A contracts a contract.
If you sign a contract, right, and
six months later they say you gotta
tear it up
Cook: If they do it with us, what
chance have other bands got?
Nme: But i would have thought that
working with a company that was so
against you, youd rather just get out.
Cook: Yeah, but its the people at the top who are against us. The people in
the record company, like the A&R guys who work on the shop floor, theyre
behind the band, and theyve got absolutely no say in it. Its yer John Reads
hes the guy thats in charge of all of EMI, not just the record company.
matlock: He doesnt normally interfere.
Nme: What happened before the Grundy interview? it seemed at the
time like you were just sitting there right, heres our opportunity,
were gonna get on the box and
matlock: Swear!
Nme: Create havoc.
matlock: No, we just went there and sat in a room for a bit and had a beer
each, and he asked us a few questions we just answered them. That was
it. We never even spoke to the guy before it. He was just, like, sitting there,
yknow he looked a bit kinda pissed.
Cook: I think he incited (obscured), but he asked John John said Shit
under his breath and he said, WHAT WAS THAT? He said, Nothing,
no, nothing. He said, Come on, come on, I wanna hear it, yknow. What
does he expect?
sex pistols
Nme: theres also at the moment a rather nasty rumour going around
that you didnt play on the record.
Cook: We eard that too. We got on to them straight away and got a letter
of written apology. We eard it on the radio, couldnt believe that one
either. It seems totally wrong to go (obscured)
Nme: one of the rumours is that spedding was on the record.
Cook: Spedding cant play as good as that (laughs).
Nme: You did some work with spedding, though, didnt you?
Cook: Three tracks. A long time ago, though. We really rushed in, but we
come out of it all right. He produced on em. It was all right.
Nme: But the single is categorically you lot?
Cook: Sorry?
Nme: the singles definitely you lot?
Cook: Oh yeah, yeah. What a question! (Laughs) How can you believe it?
Nme: i dont believe. i gotta ask it, havent i?
Cook: Yeah, OK. We eard it on Capital Radio; we just couldnt believe it.
Nme: Hows the audience here taking you?
Cook: Oh all right. They was getting going last night.
Nme: they seemed to like the Vibrators.
Cook: All the bands went down really well last night.
Nme: What are your favourite bands out of the other bands that
are around?
Cook: These boys.
Nme: the Heartbreakers? What do you reckon to the Vibrators?
Cook: Ah, youre trying to put me in that trap again what the Stranglers
fell for.
Nme: they didnt fall for anything. theyd decided to give that
interview before i walked in the room.
Cook: How other bands can just go out and say
things about I think any band thats about at
the moment, trying to do something new, give
em credit for it whether you like em or not.
Dont just go out and slag em off, whether you
like em or not. I think its good that theyre just
doing it, that its something new.
Jones: (From across room) Whos this?
Cook: Hes from the NME.
Jones: Whats your name?
Nme: Phil mcNeill.
Jones: (Aggressively) Oh, are you?
Cook: No, theyve been good to us lately.
Nme: Weve been good to you all along. Whats
all this about spitting at the audience?
Cook: We dont. You been reading
too much Daily Mirror.
Nme: Well, in the wake of reports
of John spitting at the audience,
some bands have started doing it.
Cook: We read that in the press too,
and suddenly we were playing and
everyone started spitting at us.
Thats what they thought we
wanted, yknow. Gobbing at us.
In Manchester or somewhere.
Nme: Whats your reaction to
seeing people with safety pins
though their cheeks?
Cook: Ive seen that too, yeah.
Nme: it seems like its a
development of John wearing
safety pins through his shirt.
Cook: Let em do what they wanna
do, thats what I say. Who cares?
Nme: and what about the great
Nazi thing thats going around
now? You got a lotta kids coming
to your gigs these days wearing
Nazi emblems and safety pins
through their faces and God knows
March 2, 1977: Paul
Cook and Steve Jones
what else.
in the audience for
Cook: They take it too seriously, they
The Heartbreakers at
really do. If they wanna wear a Nazi
the Roxy in Londons
Covent Garden
armband, let em. I dont think kids
are that political, really mean what they do. They like the shape of it.
Its a good shape.
Nme: What about the Pistols? Whats your politics?
Cook: Do what you wanna do. Thats what were doing, and getting
turned down for doing it. Do you wanna talk to John for a while? (Rotten
is standing nearby, back to us; Cook tugs his arm) John. John! Here, this
is Phil
rotten: No way.
Cook: Hes from
rotten: (Obscured, shrugging Cook off )
Cook: (Slightly put out) All right. He dont wanna do it.
He HeartBreakers set flashes by. Its been said here
already the Dolls, a heavied Ramones, not so fast, though the
receptions comparatively quiet but the friendly atmosphere
combined with the blazing rock onstage its a helluva gig.
I interview The Vibrators in the Paradiso office. Theyre euphoric
because the guy from Amsterdams other main club, the Melkweg, who
blew out the gigs hed booked for The Vibrators when the Grundy/Pistols
thing erupted, came down last night and has booked them in for two
days time.
A charge shivers the room as Anarchy In The UK lams out in the
background; Malcolm McLaren arrives and huddles heatedly with The
Vibrators manager. Bread.
A few songs into the Pistols set we wind down the interview; it will
appear here sometime soon. But lets go check the naughty boys
The Johnny Rotten Show is well under way. Long time no see. Not much
sign of the vast improvements in playing weve heard about: the sounds
much clearer than the early days, but the
music is still primitive. Without Rotten theyre
a good, hefty drummer, an ordinary bassist
and a mediocre guitarist.
Substitute and others go by. The crowd are
up for the first time, standing fascinated but
diffident. Rotten goes through his ostrichposes, the chin jutting, the mouth leering, the
eyes rolling. Theyre playing what seems to be
No Future. It boasts the title line from the
National Anthem.
Theres a long break, with a lot of aural and
visual aggro between the punters and the
Rotten/Matlock duo, then they resume the
song, very loud. Its sloppy, and it reaps silence.
A green-haired lady is sitting under
a Christmas tree stuck on the wall
behind the drums, and as they go into
(Were so pretty, oh so) Pretty Vacant
it occurs to me, vacantly, that it looks
like shes wearing some gigantic hat.
The Pistols are playing tighter,
but its still mighty basic. Jones
compensates for his limited skill
with a fair line in one-note breaks.
Johnny Rotten is a perplexing
performer. He has an extraordinary
ability to enrage his audience.
At the most basic level its his insults
and his bad behaviour, but Rotten has
something deeper. It goes deeper, too,
than his contempt for society in songs
like Im A Lazy Sod. And surely it
goes beyond his looks, his fleabitten,
hunchbacked cadaver.
Somehow this guy repels virtually
everybody, and somehow his power
reaches through the taunts to the
sensibilities of thousands, maybe
even millions, of people who have
only ever heard his name and seen
his picture.
Yet he is mesmerising. He cant be
ignored. Hes not just some hooligan
who swore on TV, he drags the most
erica echenberg / getty
Were not just

gonna let em
say, Get off
the label, do
this, do that
1977
r jones / getty
casual observer into, usually, a love-hate relationship; probably the most

charismatic rock star to emerge since Bowie.
Suddenly a couple of kids at the front who have been hitting Rotten
with woollen scarves start throwing beer. Not glasses, just beer but
for this laid-back mob its the equivalent. While Rotten stands there,
Cook erupts from his stool and he and the girl chuck beer back, Matlock
kicks his mic stand very nastily off the stage, and the rhythm section
storms off, Jones still rifling, and Rotten sends the girl to get the others
back. They eventually return for the only really furious piece of music
they play all night.
Meanwhile Malcolm McLaren stands impassive upon the mixing desk
riser, his three-piece-suited solicitor behind him
The show really begins about now. Its got nothing to do with music, but
so what? Its Entertainment. The band have left the stage all but Rotten,
who sneers, If you want more you can clap for it. Feeble applause. The
disco starts, and feet start shuffling out.
But a chant is generating. Yes yes the Pistols are coming back.
Whatcha Gonna Do Bout It, nihilism incarnate.
They end but dont go. Youre boring, drones Rotten. This weird
challenge to the audience to respond. I look round at McLaren and see
that he his standing there gesticulating to Rotten, the upswept arms of
the Get Up movement and the hands clapping overhead and Rotten is
mimicking McLaren. This show ends when Malcolm says so.
The crowd raise a half-hearted chant, Rottens response: Right, you
fuckers, were gonna do one more, so move or else forget about it.
Its a very good version of Anarchy, lots of echo on the voice. End of Act.
End of act? No way, McLaren is signalling Rotten again, and puppet-like,
Rotten copies him. Whether the audience wants one or not, theres going
to be another encore. There is, and this time Rotten stomps off before
Malcolm starts signalling.
December 11, 1976: the Pistols
and manager Malcolm McLaren
(left) at EMIs Manchester
Square studios, where they
record demos of Problems,
God Save The Queen, Liar
and No Feelings
The point of all these false encores eludes me, unless the Sex Pistols are
actually unliberated enough to get an ego-boost out of such conventional
trappings of success.
Their music is lumpen, but the spectacle is marvellous. That last
sentence could easily be applied, coincidently, to shows Ive seen in the
past years by Queen and the Stones and like those bands today, the
Pistols main success is in show business.
alcolm has agreed to speak to Robin Denselow and me

at his hotel. How the hell do we find it?
We wander off in pursuit of the beleaguered mad scientist.
Its freezing and I havent eaten all day. We walk for miles. As we near our
destination, Steve Jones runs past, bums five guilders off me virtually in
return for showing us where hes staying, much to my bemusement
Finally were there.
And behold, McLaren appears. For some reason we cant go in, so we
conduct the interview standing on a hotel step by a canal at three in
the morning. McLaren looks even more wasted than I feel, talking
unstoppably like a man possessed, staring into space. There could be
2,000 of us listening.
Weve had word that most of the majors wont touch us with bargepoles.
You havent had offers from people like Polydor, UA?
No, thats all guff, man whos spreading those kinda rumours?
Theres nobody after us. Weve had, I suppose you call it, votes of
confidence from the shop floors of various record companies, but you
begin to realise that those sort of people dont have any control over the
situation, just as its happened in EMI.
Weve had people like the guy from EMI Publishing, Terry Slater; he
rang me up today and he feels totally pissed off that hes been totally
overruled. Hes the head of EMI Publishing; he signed us four weeks ago
sex pistols
for 10,000 and now hes been told thats all got to be quashed. Hes been
made to look stupid.
The same goes for Nick Mobbs, who threatened to resign. Hes now
been told that would be very unhealthy for him, so they can produce
a wonderful statement saying on EMI no one has resigned.
There are different bands with different
points of view. The real situation is that people
on the board of directors at EMI do not agree
with our point. The people who actually work for
EMI, they do. But if they come out and make a
statement to that effect they will get the sack, or
theyll have to resign.
Those truths have never come out. What
appears in the press is that we have been thrown
out by all of EMI together, a wonderful
consensus of opinion.
If it comes to the crunch and they force you to
terminate, will you repay the advance?
How are we going to repay the advance?
Weve already spent all the money maintaining
ourselves here and on the tour. Were out here
promoting their single its not just our single.
Is it out here?
Yeah, thats the reason were here. We werent doing any other
European territory simply because EMI sent a memo asking them not to
release it. EMI Holland got the record
out before that memo reached them.
Now theyre withdrawing it.
Are they blocking its sale
in England?
Oh yeah, its being withdrawn
in England.
If you do split with them, what
happens to any tapes that are in
the can?
Those questions have been raised.
They would prefer that we take the
lot and go away with it. Its been very
easy for them. Someone signs a
contract for two years: that is an
agreement between two parties. If
you can tear that contract up in two
months because they dislike the opinion
of the band by they I mean the EMI
board of directors it makes a farce of the
whole situation.
What about all these other bands that
are coming along? They sign a contract
and some guy at the top, not some A&R guy
whos responsible for signing, says, I dont
like what Im hearing about this band,
I dont want them on the company any
more. So they go out the window.
Who are the guys whove come over here?
The managing director of EMI and the
head of the legal department Leslie Hill
and Laurie Hall. They came over to
terminate the contract and we havent
terminated it. They want us to have
another meeting; at the moment they
havent met any of my proposals, probably
because they have been told they cant
meet anything.
We had a two-hour meeting tonight.
Its been very nice. Weve come away
to Holland and someones decided
behind our back to mutually
terminate the contract. Legally,
were still on EMI Records
Now people on the EMI board are
saying, Why the hell did we sign them
in the first place? Theyre musically
inadequate, it was too much money
But I spoke to Leslie Hill, the managing director of EMI Records, prior
to us signing. It was him that was exhilarated by the band and thrilled at
the idea of signing the act. He was fully aware of their public image, and
he will not deny that.
EMI had all the tapes to all the Pistols songs. They heard them, they
were excited at the prospect of signing this act
and commercially gaining through it. We had
had offers from other companies, but I went
there because the sympathy with EMI was
strong on the shop floor.
Nick Mobbs, Tony Slater on the publishing
side, David Munns on the promotion side,
Mark Ryder the label manager, Paul Watts
the general manager and Leslie Hill the
managing director all wanted to sign this act.
Now theyre saying, We have 4,000 employees
on EMI and if we took a consensus of opinion
I dont think you would raise the amount of
votes necessary.
I made a proposal; I said, OK, find us an
equivalent contract. If I walk into Warner
Brothers theyre going to say, Well, man, you didnt make it with EMI, the
bad publicity, et cetera.
What they did on TV was something that was quite genuine. They were
goaded into it, and being working-class kids and boys being boys, they
said what they felt was OK. They dont regret it.
The KLM situation a the airport was fabricated up to a point. Yeah, the
band might have looked a little bit extraordinary, they might have spat at
each other. Big deal. And someone may have appeared a little drunk. But
they werent flying the plane, they dont need to be that sober.
There are these bands now that have some sort of petition, like Mud,
Tina Charles, all these other Top 20 acts, and sent round this petition to all
the record companies saying that they do not support this kind of music.
(NME talked to Muds manager, Barry Dunning, on Monday. He denied
Mud had signed any petition, nor would they ever do so.)
My lawyer asked: Wed like a meeting with John Read or the rest of the
money. Theyd rather give us the rest of the money than have a meeting.
John Read speaks on behalf of all the shareholders, he controls EMI Ltd,
which covers far more than just a record company. He wouldnt meet us.
He sent Hill instead; every time you just get to speak to Hill. Hill has his
orders and he cant move from that point.
How much money have you had of the 40,000?
Half. The first year. But that has been spent on supporting a tour.
We ended up selling the fucking record at the bloody door in
Rotterdam and at the Paradiso last night. Its a joke.
Whats next, a big legal battle?
I dont know. I asked Hill if they can reconsider their situation, quite
simply and if they cant, why cant Capitol Records, who were signed to
in America? Oh well, Capitol Records decided to go along with
Manchester Square. They dont want any part of it.
I said, What happens if were on another label and the distribution is
through EMI? Are EMI gonna distribute the record? They cant really
answer that. Its very difficult, it really is. I feel pretty bad about it.
Hills now saying, Cant you go to Virgin Records, I hear thats an
interesting company. Bollocks, man we went to Virgin Records before
we went to EMI and they didnt wanna know.
If we walk into another record company, what are they going to say?
If you cant play anywhere and we cant hear your records on the radio
and EMI decided to drop you What the hell are they going to do?
Its not just EMI, its people behind the scenes, guys that go on the radio
and say we didnt play on our record, the guy thats scared to put us on Top
Of The Pops even though were in the breakers because the BBC dont
want to be seen to be associated with us.
Whats it all about?
EMIs MD
was fully
aware of the
Sex Pistols
public image
ntil last week I had no sympathy whatsoever for the

punks-as-martyrs line, but if what McLaren says about them
not being able to land a contract anywhere is true (I still dont
really believe that one), and EMI Records do succeed in breaking their
legal contract simply on account of 30 seconds of televised swearing,
then Ill, Ill
Phew, for a moment there I Almost Cut My Hair!
The McLaren interview was recorded on an EMI tape. Phil McNeill
1977
memorable and his

accompaniments have
become much lusher,
his arrangements
fuller. Naked & Warm
is not an outstanding
Bill Withers album, but
its highlights, City Of
Angels, Close To
Me, the title track and
My Imagination are
good enough to last
until his next set.
Geoff Brown, MM Jan 22
Earth, Wind & Fire

Spirit CBS
Al Green (left) and

Willie Mitchell in the
latters Royal Studios in
Memphis, Tennessee
ALBUMS
KPA / ZumA / REX
Al Green Have A Good Time LONDON

Bill Withers Naked & Warm CBS
Green and Withers are both
eminently distinctive singers
and writers whove been
hampered by their very
individuality, Green more so
because hes always worked
with the Hi studio session team
and producer Willie Mitchell;
which is fine if (as I do) you like
Howard Grimes drumming and
the work of Teenie, Leroy and
Charles Hodges, but it does set
a rather too well-defined
perimeter of appeal.
Withers, because he has
worked more readily with
a variety of musicians, has
brought fresher aspects to his
music but, essentially, its heart
remains the same.
Greens album is a good
showcase for his voice, but too
many of the Green/Mitchell
songs are merely competent
efforts. The one outside song,
Nothing Takes The Place Of
You, a ballad, draws a
magnificently hurt performance
from the singer. Elsewhere
theres a fine fuzz-toned guitar
intro lifted from Elmore James to
The Truth Marches On and his
gospelly introduction to the title
track is convincingly authentic.
Touring here in 1975

as support band to
Santana, EWF created
quite a stir with wellarranged, modern
funk and a bravura live
show which included
such ludicrous effects
as a rotating
rostrum, its
incumbent
ALBUMS
soloing while
he looped
the loop. All
this fol-derol, one
1977
concluded,
was used to
camouflage their
Happy finds Green at
materials lack of
his free-ranging best, while
substance. Spirit further
Hold On Forever is genuine
confirms that impression. The
exultation. Of all soul or R&B
big single, Getaway, is
singers working today, Green is
attractively danceable, the
simply the most flexible within
album is cleanly produced (by
his own style. It is the confines of
EWF leader Maurice White and
that style that have stunted
Charles Stepney) and the group
wider peculiarity in Britain.
play with the sharp precision one
Subjectively, I could listen to Al
expects of a top American funk
Green all day and often do, but
band and sing high harmony
objectively I do not think I could
vocals pleasantly. But their
honestly build a watertight case
pretensions towards cosmic
to convince a non-believer.
relevance do not ring true
For a man who used to install
and ultimately seem, like the
toilets in jet planes until far
aforementioned twirling drum
later into life than he cares to
rostrum, just another gimmick to
remember, Bill Withers hasnt
kid us that theyre more than the
done too badly. His voice is not
merely listenable, well-recorded
the reliable and expressive
purveyors of light love songs
instrument that is Greens, but
they seem. Geoff Brown, MM Jan 22
Withers has his own, very
Billy Connolly
personal style which comes from
Atlantic Bridge POLYDOR
knowing his vocal limitations yet
not always accepting them. Like
Billy Connollys previous albums
Green, after a spell of popularity
for Polydor (Cop Yer Whack For
in Britain his star has dimmed
This and Get Right Intae Him),
somewhat, but the quality of his
despite the enormous
albums hasnt. Neither artist
commercial
tours here, and thus they are
success they have
ignored by radio and record
enjoyed, have not
buyers alike. Withers initial
reflected his
success came via good songs and
genuine comic
a fresh-sounding nasally voice
talent. Those
which created a warm musical
familiar with
ambience. Naked & Warm is
the earlier Solo
firmly in that mould, though his
Concert double set
songs are less immediately
on Transatlantic
REVIE
W
Records will know that

Connolly is capable of the
most bizarre and hilarious
flights of the imagination,
with a commendable ability
to sustain a constant flow of
comic ideas and observations
and build around one joke an
elaborate fantasy. Those
who know only the
aforementioned Polydor
albums, edited clumsily from live
performances, will have an image
of Connolly only as a popular
comic infatuated with mild
vulgarity, and overlook pieces
like Sergeant Wheres Mine?
(still one of the most acid and
pertinent comments on Ulster)
and the later Join The Army.
This new album, taken from
recordings of concerts at the
Carnegie Halls in Dunfermline
and New York, is fortunately a far
more accurate representation of
his talent, and occasionally
catches Connolly at this most
inspired. The Dunfermline
concert presents us with a
familiar Connolly performance
before a predictably partisan
audience well acquainted with his
work, and Connolly responds
enthusiastically to their
appreciation. There are few
surprises here, but Rodney And
Cynthia is one of his most
hilarious routines, delivered with
infectious relish, and his attack
on Stars On Sunday and its
principles is delightfully
vindictive. It is, however, the
side recorded in New York that
most immediately engages
ones attention. The audience
is surprisingly familiar with
Connollys work, which is just as
well because he makes no
concession. Play The Welly
Boot Song, shouts a woman at
one point. No, Connolly
responds viciously. Make me.
The side opens with two of
Connollys more tolerable
country & western parodies,
The Shitkickers Waltz and
Half-Stoned Cowboy, both
amusing for the vigour of his
performance, but which fade
completely in comparison with
the centrepiece of this album,
Death. Its Connollys funniest
and most inspired routine since
the classic The Crucifixion.
David Bowie Low RCA

Any understanding of this album
ought to be prefaced by Bowies
comments in last years Playboy
interview that his favourite group
of the moment was Kraftwerk,
and that he was excited by
sound as texture rather than as
music; producing noise records
seems pretty logical to me.
Add to that the fact that Bowie
is currently living in Berlin, and
that hes said to be a friend of T
Dreams Edgar Froese, and you
have the rough background to
Low, a record which once again
exemplifies his fascination with
ideas rather than emotions, and
thereby emphasises his position
in the vanguard of modern
rock music.
For Low, while not precisely an
album of white noise, is more
experimental, rather than just
different from any other of his
records. Unlike his albums up to
and including Young Americans,
there is no readily apparent lyric
context because the machines of
the studio have largely taken
precedence over his singing; if
Low has any theme at all, it has to
be gleaned from such tracks as
Be My Wife, What In The
World and Sound And Vision
where hes singing about selfisolation (thus low equals
MM Jan 22
Hawkwind on the
Marc TV show:
(lr) Adrian Shaw,
Simon House,
Robert Calvert
and Simon King
SINGLES
SINGLES
W
REVIE
Stranglers
(Get A) Grip (On
Yourself)/London Lady
UNiteD ARtiStS
The Phil McNeill Fan Club make

their recording debut with a
stunning double-sided single
of distinctive, intelligent,
contemporary rocknroll that
sounds like Roxy Music would
have if that old capped-tooth
smoothie Ferry had been
influenced by The Doors (as
opposed to Humphrey Bogart
at the start of his male
menopause). The B-side,
London Lady, is perhaps
more like the noise you would
have expected from a squad
of elder punksters Hugh
Cornwells slashed-out riffing
more upfront on this twominute-25 song than on the A,
where the main feature is
Dave Greenfields swirling
keyboards backing up the
hookline chorus (which is maybe
strong enough to get them
some chart action). NME, Feb 5
Hawkwind
Back On The Streets ChARiSmA
Unlike the majority of dandruffencrusted hippies, this lot have
never been averse to knocking
out a decent single once in a
while. Silver Machine was OK
and the sunk-without-trace
Kings Of Speed was great.
This single sounds more like the
stuff you hear coming from the
stage of the Roxy than does The
Stranglers, which just goes to
prove once more how
meaningless labelling anything
punk rock is. Here you get
cranked-out basic chords
designed to make you eardrums
bleed, lyrics that are
unintelligible apart from the
chanted title-chorus,
and the rhythm
section playing
like they enjoy
feeling those
blisters
squish
against their
instruments.
NME, Feb 5
1977
Rose Royce
Car Wash mCA
The theme from

the American box
office smash movie
starring Richard Pryor and The
Pointer Sisters (remember The
Pointer Sisters?). This is a cute
sidestepping two-beat number
reminiscent of Donnie Elbert in
a rough mood, with strings so
dirty they almost ooze onto the
vinyl. Rush released owing to
public demand, and already
high in the soul and disco charts,
its about the agony and ecstasy
of hosing down Volkswagens:
You may not ever get rich/But
let me tell you its better than
digging a ditch Sure it sounds
a lot more fun to wind
up working in a car
wash than in Frank
Zappas gas
station, but
have they really
constructed
a double album
around the
song? NME, Jan 8
Joan Armatrading
Alice CUBe
A sad little song
about a chick with a
near-perfect face and
a deranged mind ah, nothing
changes. An inoffensive
pussyfooter, and not the
sharp ice-and-fire Armatrading
we all wish we knew and loved.
Joan sounds more comfortable
with love than death anyhow:
Its harder to live than to
die, she warbles uncertainly.
From the 1972 album Whatever
For Us, a case of cashing in
on the part of Cube maybe,
but theyre wasting their time.
If theres one thing that doesnt
go down well with the Great
British Public, its girls singing
about girls, which is
why the greatest
rocknroll
single of all
time, Patti
Smiths
Gloria,
got
nowhere.
NME, Jan 8
ITV / REX
There is an old Scots proverb,

he reminds the audience, that
says there is more fun at a
Glasgow funeral than an
Edinburgh wedding. He then
proceeds to offer his considered
opinions on death in general and
funerals specifically. He is not
enamoured of interment
what a terrible thing to do with
people and is not altogether
fond of cremation. They should,
he suggests, try to brighten that
process a little to attract more
customers: fly a few banners, he
says, to advertise its advantages.
Things like, Come and watch
Elizabeth Fry come and watch
Robert Browning come and
see Captain Cook.. see how
Robbie Burns
You know, tasteless things
like that. I love it. In fact, to use
a favourite phrase of Mr
Connollys, the entire album is
a stoater. Allan Jones, MM Jan 15
depression, I suppose).
True to his suggestions in
Playboy, Bowie has made an
album of moods and textures
that spring from a general
employment of the
synthesizer, wielded both by
Bowie and, more particularly,
by Eno. Its going to be said,
if it hasnt already, that Eno
has been the inspiration here.
Certainly, side two, where he
uses, with Bowie, a variety of
synthesizers on Warszawa and
Art Decade, is wholly electronic
and instrumental, whatever
vocals there are having been
doctored for effect. RCA,
therefore, probably regard Eno
as something of an evil genius,
because the nature of these
tracks seems rather at odds with
the official fan-club leaflet they
have included with the album.
I wouldnt go nearly as far in my
mistrust. Though there are some
quite interesting moments, such
as Bowies playing of the Gravel
Sax on Subterraneans, this side
inflicts on me the same boredom
induced by all portentous space
music. It doesnt seem as
interesting or experimental as
most of the works on Enos own
Obscure label, let alone
measuring up to Reich, Berio,
Stockhausen and all the rest,
although it might go down well in
the Pink Floyd/T Dream market.
Most Bowie fans anyway will
invariably play only side one,
which in the Bowie canon is
really a musical bridge between
the second side and the heavymetal soul of Station To Station.
The overall impression is of
disco rhythms filtered through
a Germanic consciousness, a
Hunnish practice that Ive come
to find quite pleasing. Some of it
sounds like backing tracks just
waiting for a vocal. A New
Career In A New Town, for
instance, and Speed Of Life,
which is dominated by
tremendous bass and
sledgehammer drums. But
elsewhere Bowie has achieved
what I think is a rather unique
songform by successfully
marrying pop music with
electronic concepts. Much too
powerful for Muzak, its music
thats highly appropriate for an
age which despises articulacy
and subtler feeling, which
increasingly turns from the
spoken word to the comic book,
the television, and all other
technological apparatus. Its
oddly the music of Now not
exactly what is currently popular,
but what seems right. Michael Watts,
1977
March 19, 1977:

Peter Gabriel
on stage at the
Palladium in
New York City
The right
intensity
The charming
PETER GABRIEL opens
up about Genesis,
Bowie, the Sex Pistols
(I enjoyed Rotten),
Bruce Springsteen and
taking on the industry
with his new solo
career. The fact
that Im an ex-public
school boy put a lot of
musicians off working
with me, he says.
NME MARCH 12
So I went from day to day
Oh, my life was in a rut
Till I thought of what Id say
Which connection I should cut
I was feeling part of the scenery
I walked right out of the machinery
T
gus stewart / gettY
Peter Gabriel (Solsbury Hill)
HE LATE 70s are here and The Rock Machine isnt always a turnon any more. In fact, to some its indistinctly repugnant, as readers
of this paper should have noticed if they have been paying any
attention to the punks and their supporters war cry of Back to
the streets (though, in the case of the latter, I wonder how much of
it is being anti for antis sake, and just how many of them wouldnt
relish the prospect of being the rich old pop stars they supposedly despise?).
But actually to come out against the all-powerful and utterly seductive Rock
Machine when youre part of it the beast itself swelling your ego and bank
account alike is another thing, an entirely admirable one at that and perhaps
even art for arts sake. Which is just what Peter Gabriel did when he quit Genesis
two years ago, immediately prior to their final thrust towards the top of the British
rock hierarchy.
All right, I know you could say such a move was ego for egos sake, but having met
Gabriel a couple of times and listened to his recently released first solo album,
theres more to it than that.
As Gabriels publicist notes with an air of relieved satisfaction, the former Genesis
figurehead is a lot easier for an interviewer to
deal with these days. While hardly the worlds
most languid subject, he like his erstwhile
colleagues Tony Banks, Mike Rutherford and
Steve Hackett has mellowed out considerably
in the fast few years.
It still takes a good half-hour before this
extremely articulate human being actually
relaxes and begins to assemble his utterances
into anything like lucidity, but theres not so
much as a hint of a stutter from Gabriels mouth
these days.
Gabriel actually feels more comfortable in
front of a camera or anywhere else where he
can project a visual image rather than a verbal
one. On the other hand, he certainly isnt a vain
man, couldnt give a toss for fashion and today
1977
looks for all the world like a 60s provincial rocker who hasnt got
it quite right.
The bikers jacket is fine in fact its the same one he wore to
depict Rael (the New York punk around whom The Lamb was
built) on his last tour with Genesis. And the black rollneck
sweater beneath the open-necked white shirt is OK, but the
jeans are on the sloppy side, not to mention the sneakers
abriel has driven down from his apparently
immodest home on the outskirts of Bath for this day of
interviews which means he was up at seven this
morning. Favourite listening for Gabriel in his car of late is
none other than Bowies Low.
I think its a very interesting album, he opines. Theres an
edge he gets to side one that punks dont get near the menace in
the guitar, bass and drums.
He rarely sits down in front of his stereo to listen to music, and
on the few occasions he buys a record its usually something he
and his daughter can dance to.
These days Gabriel is almost exclusively into songwriters. He
lists among his favourites Bruce Springsteen, Randy Newman,
Paul McCartney, Joni Mitchell, Becker-Fagen. Springsteens
much-maligned autumn 75 Hammersmith gigs, of which
Gabriel saw the second concert, was the most exciting thing hes
seen on stage in a long time. (I didnt think Id like it at all, but it
moved me simply because he was feeling something himself.)
Gabriels partiality to Springsteen is evident on the refrain of
the first part of Humdrum, the song that closes side one of the
solo album. And Waiting For The Big One, the second of side
twos quartet of songs dealing with the apocalypse (Bowie and
Jackson Browne arent the only ones whove seen the end coming down),
lies somewhere between Newmans compassionate cynicism and Tom
Waits booze-drenched pathos.
But thats only half the story, since Gabriel also employs a highly
unpredictable arrangement for what is basically a sleazy slow blues,
characterised at first by the perfectly absurd piano of Jozef Chirowski and
later by the devilishly precise power chords of the great Steve Hunter,
heavy-metal supremo to Lou Reed and Alice Cooper in the past. Just to
keep you guessing, a choir sings the final choruses.
More than anything else, Gabriel now wants to forge an identity for
himself as a songwriter. He thinks itll be easier for him to do this in
America, where hes currently touring, than in Britain where he considers
himself thought of as primarily a performer. And because Genesis seem
to sound the same now as when he was in the band, he reasons it will be
more difficult for him to be accepted as a songwriter here.
Says Gabriel: When I was first with the band I got credited with writing
everything. That wasnt true. Now I get credited with writing nothing,
but if you ask Tony and Mike, the groups two main music writers,
theyll tell you I used to end up doing all the
vocal melodies.
Gabriel, of course, was also the groups major
lyricist, responsible for the often impenetrable,
not to mention precious, mesh of glimpses into
mundane British life, cosmic buffoonery and
Alice In Wonderland fantasy that made up
much of the groups lyrics. Even so, it is difficult
not to be moved by the combined effects of the
words and music to, say, Suppers Ready
and Gabriels saving grace was always the
quirky sense of humour he injected into the
groups material.
These days Gabriels songs are much more
down to earth lyrically and feature relatively
modest arrangements. Solsbury Hill is the
most overtly personal song on the album. As well
as dealing with how he saw his situation in Genesis,
the song is a joyous celebration of the life-force. With
its simple and infectious melody and arrangement,
you get the feeling Gabriels quitting the band was like
having the proverbial weight lifted from his shoulders.
Although Gabriel wanted to get away from the
Genesis song-format quasi-orchestral
arrangements, etc and make a simple album (hence
theres no lyric-sheet), it wasnt always easy. Originally Solsbury Hill

had seven sections, but with the help of Canadian producer Bob Ezrin,
veteran of several Alice Cooper and Lou Reed albums, Gabriel was able to
prune it down to two.
Even so, there are parts of the album that do resemble Genesis
musically, especially Humdrum and the closing epic, Before The
Flood, musically a romantic statement, high on melody and with masses
of Mellotron. A sublimely well-constructed solo from Dick Wagner
(Hunters partner in crime) adds another side to it.
As far as Gabriel is concerned, the only lyrical resemblance between
what hes doing now and what he laid down with Genesis is his sense of
humour, something which he feels is now missing from the band. With
some reticence he says, I dont like their lyrics. I dont think they now get
any actual pleasure out of seeing words down on paper. I dont think its so
important to them but theres still some really nice melodies there.
I dont reckon Im a great lyricist, but I think theres as much a craft
involved in writing lyrics as there is in writing music. I dont think the
band at the moment give it that much priority.
Since quitting the group over two years
ago, hes seen them perform three times at
Hammersmith last summer (for my money one
of last years finest gigs) and twice on their
recent British tour (at the Rainbow, where the
tour opened, and at the last gig, in Bristol).
I enjoyed the band at Hammersmith, but
I was disappointed at the Rainbow where
Chester (Thompson the groups new second
drummer) looked like a fish out of water. The
feel wasnt coming through at all. Bristol was
much better.
So what does he think of Genesis these days?
When I was with the band, the emphasis was
more on songs than musicianship, but now the
playing and the execution has come up to match
and maybe go ahead of the writing in terms of what
they choose to feature. Because when I listen back to
some of the other Genesis records I can hear what we
were going for and how we failed on occasions to get
the right feel or the right intensity or enough space.
I remember quite often nervously filling holes
which should have been left empty, and I think
theyre better at that now. In some ways Phil is
a better singer that I am from a technical point of
I think my
leaving, in
fact, kicked
some fresh air
into Genesis
PETER GABRIEL
March 1977: Gabriel in

New York, in the bikers
jacket he wore on stage
with Genesis when
portraying Rael, the
protagonist of The Lamb
Lies Down On Broadway
tendencies in their situation which will encourage them to

become rich old pop stars to absorb those kinds of attitudes.
Its very hard for me, cos theyre friends. If in three years
time theyre still going on, I think they could well be bored with
what theyre doing. I think they may be bored in a years time.
As far as the punks attitude to bands becoming dinosaurs,
there is a certain amount of hypocrisy in the way that they are
being exploited and whether they can control it or not.
I felt if I hadnt left Genesis it would have become obsolete, or
rather it would have become obsolete if wed gone on as we
were. We could have rehashed certain ideas and maybe
produced some innovation, but within a fixed, stable
framework that wouldnt have put us to the test.
Surely a lot of bands reach that point and carry on regardless?
Yes, I think thats true, he replies but laughing
uproariously, refuses to name names.
abriels attitude towards the punks is an

ambivalent one. On the one hand he thinks an
amount of rebelliousness is just what rock needs now
what with rock stars now having the same status
pre-war movie stars experienced, a situation
which can certainly kill the communication link
between performer and audience.
Says Gabriel: I went to see Paul Simon in New York
a real star-studded affair. George Harrison was
there. It was all very smug. Its the same with
professional footballers. Once you get into the multimedia boys its an elite thing and you move around
anywhere but at the expense of losing some of the
contact with the people who actually listen to the
music. Thats why I think the club scene is so
important, because you really do get that intimacy.
But then again, he feels the punk phenomenon was
seized on too quickly by a copy-hungry media and
a record industry about to break its neck in its fear of
missing the next boat and not cleaning up on it. If the scene had been left
alone to blossom untainted by such commercial pressures, the groups
would have developed more as players and writers. Gabriel checked out
the Sex Pistols before they were infamous.
I didnt much like their attitude to the support band. It was very much
Were the stars. Genesis used to get the same kind of treatment when
they were a support band. I didnt go for the music much, but I enjoyed
Rotten. I was interested at that point because other people who I was with
(not musicians, but personal friends) hated them with a venom I hadnt
seen for a long time. I thought anyone who can produce that reaction
must be interesting.
Gabriel is more enamoured of the New York punk scene which has had
time to develop and where both performers and audiences are older. In
fact, Gabriel is pretty enamoured by America per se particularly New
York. Not only can he avoid any prejudices from an audience in America,
he can also avoid them from musicians too, one of the main reasons he
chose to record his first solo album there.
The fact that Im an ex-public school boy and come from the school of
progressive rock would have put a lot of musicians off working with me
here. At the very least theyd have had to like me despite those things.
As things turned out, the American musicians who worked with Gabriel
on his album, Bob Ezrins house band,
were so impressed with Gabriel and his
material that they expressed a desire to
work with him on the road. And so it
will be. As yet there are no plans for
Gabriel to work in Britain. Hed like to,
but it all depends on how well the
American tour goes. If I feel its going
well, then Ill do it, he says.
Now if that remark came from any
other rock star, Id take it with a pinch
of salt but seeing as how Gabriel had
the integrity and guts to step right out
of the machine which had made him
famous in the first place, Ill believe
him. Steve Clarke
view. Apart from anything else he has more control

over his voice. Phil approaches it as a musician and
gets it to sound better.
I think the actual things written in the songs
probably mean more to me and I tend to think I sang
them as much as possible with I dont know with
emotion in the sense they mean more to me. So with Suppers Ready,
I miss that.
Gabriels pleased Genesis have enjoyed greater success since his
splitting, however anxious he is to carve his own niche all over again and
with different implements.
If they hadnt been able to get going when I left I would have felt bad
about it. At the time of my leaving they said Id destroyed things for them
and was being selfish. It was only gradually that they got back their own
self-confidence. Now theres no question of me having damaged it. I think
my leaving, in fact, kicked some fresh air into the band. While in some
ways they resented me being up front, they also sheltered behind me. And
they had a responsibility when I left to come up with something strong.
There was considerable emotional resentment because I got all the
press. I felt Genesis were taking less risks. Maybe my leaving changed
that. Had I stayed, things looked very rosy. We seemed just about to break
America, and in my mind, as far as ego and ambition went I was always
a year ahead anyway. So I thought we were as big as I wanted to go. And
some of the fire seemed to be going out of the music.
Does he regard his former colleagues as rich old pop stars, then?
No, he replies without any of his characteristic hesitation. I regard
them as people I spent two years with and am still friendly with. I think
there are factors built into their
situation which are built into any
situation as successful as that which
are conservative, which have to
consider business interests.
Which isnt to say I dont but just
the very scale of things, the number
of people involved, means that the
machine is so bulky that if you punch
it the punch gets absorbed in the
flab, rather than actually changing
its course.
Basically, I felt wed built our house
and we were renting it out. And for
me the building is more interesting
than the renting. I think there are
graham wood / getty
1977
Something
more than
blatancy
IGGY POP is off
drugs, a changed
man. A new album
recorded with his
close pal, the now
lesser-spotted
David Bowie is an
attempt to pursue a
different line in his
work. Intrigued,
MM travels to
Berlin to attempt
to find the pair.
ian dickson / getty
MELODY MAKER MARCH 5
ext to Mick Jaggers adroit signing of the Rolling Stones to

eMi, after months spent hooking such different fish as Virgin,
RSo and Polydor Records, there has been no more interesting
subject of speculation in music gossip than the whereabouts and
plans of David Bowie.
Rumours of fascist studies in Berlin, of a Hitlerian cult and
Howard Hughes-style intrigues, of heart illness and severe depressions, may have
been on the level of Photoplay and Silver Screen, but then stars who cheerfully admit
their own manipulation of the media should hardly complain when the media start
making their own inferences. Musicians, after all, usually like to increase public
knowledge of their relationship to their work.
the stories were amplified when it was recently announced that Bowie had
produced, arranged and co-written all the songs on The Idiot, the first album for
almost four years by his protg (if thats the word) iggy Pop, once of the Stooges. Not
only that, but it was said that Bowie was managing, or at least directing iggys
career. Suddenly he was Sol Hurok!
Harald inhlsen was soon on the telephone from Braunschweig, a town about 200
kilometres outside West Berlin. A young filmmaker, Harald is better known as the
president of iggys european fan club at least, to British music papers. He sends
out nude photographs of his girlfriend, Mechthild, the self-styled iggys
only true fan. the latest show her lying akimbo on large posters of the
former Stooge.
Harald had this story about their assignations with iggy. He would
call them up, and they would meet him at some specified place in Berlin.
Sometimes Bowie was with him, though they hadnt seen him for three
months. Yet iggy would never reveal his phone number, nor where he
was living. Harald said iggy was frightened of upsetting Bowie, with
whom he lived and who was near-paranoid about people locating him.
the German press, it seemed, were stalking him around checkpoint
charlie with notebooks, tape recorders and telephoto lenses, even
though Bowies popularity is not great in Germany. All the world loves
a recluse, though.
iggy is under Bowies control, i think, said Harald in his best english.
He would like to break away. Get his own apartment.
this was very interesting, since iggy has always been presented before
as the Wild Man of Pop that sort of thing, a performer whose terrifying
band name
March 5, 1977: Iggy

Pop at the Rainbow
Theatre in North
London for two
dates before The
Idiot Tour heads to
Canada and the US
1977
rex features
self-abuse has, in an intriguing way, made his

audience voyeurs. When he first came to England
in spring 1972, with Tony Defries, then Bowies
manager, he told me how he bashed his front teeth
with the microphone, broke bottles on his chest,
and once jabbed the splintered end of a mic stand into
a young girls head. He also liked to play golf. It was a little confusing.
Such a nice, open chap, despite the big hat, pulled down low and shady,
and those missing bits of tooth.
Later, Bowie mixed his CBS album, Raw Power, his best to that date,
but Iggy returned to America, to Los Angeles, where he slipped back into
old drug habits and gradual anonymity beyond the small circle of his cult.
For a time he bunked with Ray Manzarek of The Doors and tried to be Jim
Morrison; and he had few good things to say about David Bowie.
Then, abruptly, the friendship was restored when Bowie left Defries
and went to live in LA. Iggy was with him on a train that passed through
Russia; he was also on Bowies tour of Europe last spring and summer.
They began making The Idiot at the Chteau dHrouville in France that
same summer, and finished it at Musicland in Munich and Hansa, the
studio near the Berlin Wall.
All done, presumably, including the new record deal for RCA (his own
label), with Bowies money and influence. Indeed The Idiot has Bowies
own unmistakeable handwriting.
Remember the hat? Iggy laughed when he called last week from
Berlin. I said I hoped his teeth were in better shape (and remembering the
fervent belief in dental care of Mainman employees, Im sure they are).
Id better explain.
This telephone call was A Promotional Device. When a rock artist is
about to tour, especially when he hasnt performed in a long while, its
good to whip up a little press interest with an interview.
Iggy started this week in Britain a series of comeback concerts that will
take him to Canada and America, and possibly back to Europe. As of
writing, I hear the whole staff of one music paper were hiring a coach to
go to the first gig at Friars, Aylesbury, so maybe he didnt need the
interview after all.
It was very good of him to spare the time, anyways, in the eventual
circumstances. He began by saying it was a beautiful day in Berlin. The sky
was bright blue. A statement of some moment he had hardly seen it for
some time because he had been
rehearsing all night and sleeping
most of the day (it was 3pm his time).
Actually, he sounded in really fine
shape. I am very straight, he
insisted. Then he laughed again.
Well, in relationship to drugs.
We got to more serious talk, about
the new album. Not so much, like
the others, a slap in the face, I said.
More like a pinch on the bum, he
drily replied.
A reflection of life in Berlin?
Not exactly. He lived most
of the time in Paris. I have
a girlfriend there.
Oh. That Harald.
It might have more to do with the
fact that before I went in to do it I didnt
give a shit about what was going down
in the music industry. I hadnt listened
to anything for six months. I didnt give
a flying
Fuck?
Yeah, for the last two years Ive been
living a life of more It was hard, very
hard, to get along and try and do what I
wanted to do. I felt I had something more
to do than the blatancy I felt it was too
blatant and just to say there are no drugs
involved. As a matter of fact, Id like to put
out maybe China Girl as a single because
I wasnt twisted up and paranoid.
He broke off.
Hey, Ive really gotta go.
It felt as though someone were signalling to him in

the same room. What about Bowie, I persisted his
influence on the album, I meant?
This was made before the Bowie album. Theres a
great deal of his influence on it, but its only as strong
as guys in the past. Ive always worked with one
person as the keynote, kicking ideas back and forth with me, like Ron
Asheton, James Williamson. It was done very much in the manner that Ive
always worked. We sat in the basement, me on drums and him on piano.
The lyrics were basically mine, but Ive never been that closed about it. He
wrote a lot of the music, and I wrote the lyrics, but the melodies are mine.
Why call it The Idiot? After the book?
No, he said, that was always the title he wanted. He hadnt read
Dostoyevski until later, and then he was convinced. He had also seen, in a
Berlin museum, a picture called Roquairol, of a guy who looked just like
him. He had felt good about the title.
But he had to go. (Thinking quickly) I asked him if the new stage act
would be at all different.
I think its exactly the same Its hopefully not quite as nasty as the
direction it started to take. But its straight along the lines of Metallic KO
[a current bootleg].
Everybody would expect him to be outrageous, of course.
(A pregnant pause. His mood seemed to tighten.) Ive never had the sort
of respect for these particular currents of thought to give a shit. And I
dont quite think that, actually, I know what people come to see me for,
and I know what papers write about it, and they are two different things.
They come because they like the style of music and show. Of course,
there are going to be some who see it otherwise. Its fine with me if they
dont come.
Punk rock? Anarchy In The UK?
I thought it sounded like me. I heard New Rose, which I quite liked.
And Ive heard of The Clash. But otherwise I dont know much about it.
(Signals flashing. This time he would really have to go. Desperate. Try to
be crafty.)
This apartment in Berlin, is this where he lived with Bowie?
(A burst of incredulous laughter.) Come on, man! You know I cant say.
Its for David to say. Youll have to ask him.
I would if I knew where he was.
Ah.
Iggy finally rang off, and the next day I flew out to Berlin, doubtless
attracted by all that fine weather they were having.
ONT ASK me how I found out about the Schlosshotel Gerhus.
Inside knowledge. Tucked away down a quiet road in the grand
residential district of Grunewald, before it became a 40-room
hotel it was a palace, built in the early years of this century by Dr
Pop with David Bowie,

his co-composer and
keyboards player in
the studio and on
stage during The Idiot
Tour, spring 1977
iggy pop
Walthur von Pannwitz, once personal attorney

to Kaiser Wilhelm II.
Its great and gloomy and baroque. To enter, one
has to swing against huge and heavy wroughtiron gates. The cavernous hall is decorated in the
rich style of the Italian Renaissance.
Footsteps echo hollowly on tile and marble.
You feel quite alone. Indeed, there is only the
immaculately white-jacketed figure of the
matre d, sitting silently at the starched tables of
a restaurant where no one ever seems to eat.
It is straight out of Viscontis The Damned
(I refer, of course, to Luchino, not Tony nor
something on the Stiff label).
Yet there was a clue on the wall of the lobby,
where, amongst photographs of Robert
Kennedy and good German burghers gathered
in the great hall, stood out a picture of Mick
Jagger in his Midnight Rambler get-up. Is there
any hotel these days, I wondered, that refuses
rocknrollers?
Then the lift-boy further enlightened me.
Any English here?
Ja. Fifteen. Musicians.
Oh really. Feigning disinterest.
Ja. David Bowie. He pointed down a long,
dark corridor. I handed him a Deutschmark. It
really isnt worth very much these days.
By midnight I found out that he was wrong
anyway, or perhaps his English wasnt good
enough (what arrogance for us to expect it!).
After careful snooping from the picture
gallery, I observed various bohemian
characters briskly coming and going like
characters from a Dumas roman--clef. These
were the musicians.
But no Bowie or Iggy, and a rigorous thirddegree of the hotel clerk ascertained that
although both had occasionally stayed there,
they now lived elsewhere. I sat pondering in my
large, overcast room, a little intimidated by the
indefinably German quality of its old, polished
walnut and the reverent hush, stinking of money that glided in through
the castellated windows.
But disgusted eventually with the standard of variety shows on
German television, and disappointed to find that Harald was not at
home snapping naughty shots of Mechthild, I absorbed myself in a
fascinating interview with William Burroughs, in whose descriptions
of cut-ups, fold-ins, word and mind games its not difficult to recognise
a model for David Bowie.
I think that words are an around-the-world, ox-cart way of doing
things, awkward instruments, and they will be laid aside eventually,
probably sooner than we think. This is something that will happen in the
space age. Most serious writers refuse to make themselves available to
the things that technology is doing.
And this: Like the advertising people, Im concerned with the precise
manipulation of word and image to create an action.
But Bowies own opinion of this comparison did not appear to be
forthcoming. An injudicious phone call tipped my hand. There were
reports of fear and, indeed, loathing in the Bowie camp.
Iggy was especially disgruntled, as he had just granted me 15 minutes
on the phone. I was sighted everywhere, like the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Consternation grew. Having come not to bury Caesar but to praise him,
I couldnt find a single body.
Apart from spells in Paris and Switzerland, where his wife Angela lives
(they are said to see each other about every two months), Bowie has been
living continuously in Berlin since last July in an apartment with a
girlfriend and some other people, including Iggy when hes in Berlin.
Right by the telephone is a sign in German, Wie Sprechen? (Whos
Speaking?, which he refers to whenever he doesnt recognise the voice
of the caller.
In fact, although hes adopted at least one disguise of jeans and short
hair tucked under a cloth cap, he has a stars typical ambivalence
about his privacy; which is to say that he

often likes to be recognised when he enters
a public place.
This fear of his discovery is strongly
communicated to his friends and
acquaintances. A confidant such as Tangerine
Dreams Edgar Froese, whose ideas can be seen
to have influence Bowie on Low, has to ring him
up and inform him of who the company is if he
wishes to invite him to his flat.
Bowie is well known to the musical
community. In fact, Froese actually went to the
Chateau for the original recording of Low, but
he couldnt get to grips with the music; and
Hansa By The Wall, where Low was completed,
was used early on in their career by Tangerine
Dream, although its mainly employed for
records of light music.
When she performed quite recently at the
Kino Kant, a small, 400-seater cinema that
hosts all kind of music from punk rock to
the experimental, Nico tried to get in touch
with Bowie to produce the album she is now
making in Paris; but Bowie and Iggy wouldnt
see her, apparently.
Despite stories of indifferent health
(he smokes too much) and highly variable
moods, he seems quite happy with Berlin
and a culture that boasts both fine
museums and some of the most extrovert
drag clubs in Europe.
As one of his new songs would have it,
its almost a new career in a new town.
There are even suggestions that his interest
in German history and realpolitik will lead
him to take the role of a young Goebbels in
a movie project.
Yet one still keeps sensing a rather isolated
figure, protected from the outside world by
a diligent secretary in Corinne Schwab, one
who wants to tie his friends jealously to him
like Iggy Pop.
Jimmy, as hes referred to by everyone who knows him James
Osterberg is his real name has cause to be grateful and go along with
Bowie. A kid who grew up in a caravan in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and
whose life has been an often sickly switchback ride, he is growing elderly
at almost 30 years of age in the role thats suddenly been thrust upon him
of Godfather Of Punk.
But whether or not its Bowie who has advised him to capitalise now,
when punk rock is so hot, on renewed interest in his name, the advice is
sound. Londons Rainbow Theatre, where he will play this Saturday, was
practically sold out within 24 hours.
According to Froese, who is not the most physical of performers
himself, Iggy has a very good act, quite disciplined, with Scot Rick
Gardiner on guitar and Hunt and Tony Sales, the sons of American TV
personality Soupy Sales, on drums and bass respectively.
The rehearsals took place in another converted cinema, at 21
Viktoriastrasse, in what were once the Ufa Studios. Here, members of
the Nazi cabinet, notably Goebbels, viewed German newsreel during the
second world war.
Shortly to be pulled down, it is being currently leased by the Tangs for
a small rent. Peter Baumann, one of the three members of the group, calls
it the Victoria and regards it with evident awe.
Late Friday afternoon, when I arrived there, the final rehearsals had just
finished and teams of roadies were loading the equipment ready for
transportation the following day to England. There was no sign of Bowie
or Iggy they had been tipped off. But on the dressing-room door there
was a crudely lettered sign: Iggys Idiot Lounge.
There was another piece of paper awaiting me when I got back to the
Hotel Gerhus much later that night. The desk clerk handed me an
envelope. Inside was a note that read, See you in London. Enjoy the
shows. Regards, Iggy.
Bastard. Michael Watts
We sat in
the basement,
me on drums
and Bowie
on piano
1977
Were as
subtle as
they are
AC/DC return to the UK, on a rocknroll mission.
We just get on and play with plenty of balls,
plenty of meat, says ANGUS YOUNG. Like
Second World War songs, adds BON SCOTT.
Chaps singing as they went to battle
H
MELODY MAKER MARCH 5
E didnt do IT! He didnt do it! the outburst from

the beer-bellied Welshman totally puzzles his mate,
who has also taken a vantage point on top of a table to
get a better view. Huh? comes the reply eventually.
didnt do what? He didnt do it! the others voice
adopts a tone of desperate disappointment. He didnt
strip off. He didnt flash his ass at us. He ALWAYS does it.
Just why the Cardiff top Rank Suite attracted such a formidable crowd on a
windswept, wet tuesday night is a matter of some debate. AC/dC are the band who
provide the music for the evening. their 17-year-old leprechaunish guitarist, Angus
Young, is the gent who didnt oblige the punters by dropping his pants and revealing
another side to his startling personality. Was that why they all turned out?
Whether or not it was, though, the fans went home happy. AC/dC, a weird
concoction of Scottish and Australian rockers, gave them hard, hard rock. theyd
probably seen all the moves before, heard the riffs do the rounds before this
particular band decided to claim them, but they were attracted by the raw energy
that had gone into packaging and presenting the show.
if this set wasnt notable for its originality, it sure was impressive for the
enthusiasm. it was the fourth gig of the current AC/dC British tour, and the band is
feeling the pinch of the Sex Pistols tV extravaganza with Bill Grundy that occurred
when they were home in Australia.
Venues, theyve found, have closed their doors to rocknroll. Glasgow City Hall was
one. AC/dC were prevented from playing that gig on this tour because of the damage
over-zealous fans caused on their last appearance there.
And Liverpool Stadium is out this time, too, a direct result of the derogatory
publicity rock had received since the Pistols/Grundy affair.
never mind, Young Angus optimistically states, theyll open again when theyre
losing money.
Ive gone on in gorilla suits,

as Tarzan, as Superman:
AC/DCs Angus Young on
stage in Hollywood,
California, 1977
1976
After only two years in Britain, AC/DC have already carved their own
identity with rock supporters here, although their popularity goes
nowhere near challenging their appeal down under.
Theyve just returned from an Australian tour, playing regularly as
headline act in front of 10,000 fans, but they dont mind doing an aboutturn when Britain calls. Tonight in Cardiff, for instance, I doubt very
much if the audience figure approaches the 1,000 mark. So what, they say.
We dont care how many people we play to, Angus says, through an
accent that is a curious mixture of his early Scottish upbringing, his later
Australian emigration period and a slight slur in his speech. Well play in
front of two people if we have to. Nah-matta how many peoples there, you
play for them cos they pay. Its the obligation. We coulda existed in
Australia, but eventually we would have to change, and we dont wanna
change. Middle-of-the-road is the big thing there. We would have to get
mellower and mellower and wed end up like Tommy Steele.
Three of the band were born in Scotland. Apart from Angus, theres his
brother, Malcolm, five years his senior, and the rhythm guitarist, and
singer Bon Scott, the volatile frontman whose vocal and moody stage
persona arent a million miles away from Alex Harveys. The band is
completed by Australian-born duo of bass player and drummer, Mark
Evans and Phil Rudd.
Three AC/DC albums have been released in Australia and two in
Britain, High Voltage and Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, and the music on
them is typical of the no-nonsense rocknroll that epitomises their stage
set. Again, exciting if unoriginal. When they were in Australia, the band
recorded another album with their producers, former Merseybeats
George Young (Angus and Malcolms brother) and Harry Vanda.
Angus is loath to use the word mature as a description of the new
material. Thats a little too pretentious, he thinks. Lets just say classier.
ND so we find AC/DC in the congenial surroundings of the

Cardiff Top Rank, with more focal interest on the stage than
a band of this nature usually merits. The cause for this ogling
is, undoubtedly, the presence of Angus. His schoolboyish looks and
rough baby-face features make him something of a freak offstage, but he
fully exploits those assets for the bands live set, wearing a schoolboy
outfit, short pants, blazer, shirt and tie, and cap. It certainly develops a
manic personality on stage, racing round like a madman beating the life
out of his axe, dashing occasionally into the audience.
The dance area at Cardiff is ideal for this gimmick, and Angus took full
advantage of that situation. The audience reaction to the star of the show
coming down from his pedestal to join them is fascinating. At Cardiff,
when Young went into the midst of the bopping throng, it was like some
scene from Rock Around The Clock, with fans forming a circle around him,
clapping hands, tapping feet, encouraging him to batter away.
But, as the two lads earlier bemoaned, there was no flash of Anguss
posterior at this gig. Ever since Young decided to turn his back on the
audience and expose his bare ass to the Reading Festival campers last
August, its become almost expected that he should give every audience
this, er, joy.
This history of Angus and his schoolboy rear
goes back two years.
Ahve always seen guys like Berry duckwalking and Jerry Lee Lewis stripping off, so
I decided that I would wear that for a bit of fun.
If I went on stage like this [jeans and T-shirt], Id
look dumb. That suit does me justice. For a start,
I can pull the hat over me head and hide me face.
I can do that and show off me knees. Flash me
arse. Me bums about the best side of me.
Oh yes, his bum. I informed him about the
disappointed fans.
Cos I didnt take off me pants? I only do that
when I feel like puttin shit on the audience.
Some audiences you get are really rowdy, and to shut them up you just go,
Take that, ya poof.
Its just to shut them up, to quell them. Ive been on stage, especially
in Australia, and there would be guys there all night ribbin me to do
somethin and theyd be shoutin, Angus has no balls, until I eventually
take off me pants and show em, because theyre goin to keep it up all
night, so ya gotta shut them up pretty quick.
How long, I wondered, could he sustain the gimmick?
As long as I want to. Ive gone on in gorilla suits. Ive gone on as Tarzan.
Ive gone on as Superman. I like wearin those clothes. I like to go on
lookin the part so that straightaway its something to look at. My thing is
that I like to see somethin to get people away from drinkin to see what
youre doin. Its different when you look larger than life.
Its to keep people interested, not bored. To keep them always lookin.
They pay to see somethin. Thats the way we look at it. Nah, I never get
embarrassed, Ill do anythin. The only time I get embarrassed is when
you get a crowd thats stone-cold silent, but that only makes us work
harder anyway. We get them in the end. We always have.
he CarDiff auDieNCe enjoys Anguss antics. They smile and

laugh as he gets carried away. Theyre amused at the outrage.
Just as they are amused at the outrage of the lyrics.
AC/DC make no bones about what theyre singing: sex and violence.
From The Jack to Jailbreak Bon Scotts lyrics leave little to the
imagination. Their new maxi-single shows that. The three cuts are Dirty
Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, The Jack and Big Balls.
It isnt filthy, Angus maintains. Its intended to be funny. Try telling that
to the BBC. Scott has another outlook: Rugby clubs have been doing it for
years. Songs like that. The songs that fought the Second World War were
like that, with the chaps singing them as they marched into battle.
Angus: Theres not much seriousness in it. Its just rocknroll. Chew it
up and spit it out. If you look at it this way, most of the kids in the street talk
like that. In Australia, you see, we started in small clubs and bars, and
when we came here we stuck by the same, places like the Marquee.
Kids would be swearin their heads off. They dont say turn it up, they
say fucking turn it up were as subtle as what they are. As far as radio
stations go, you can turn on the radio and you wouldnt like to hear your
songs on the radio anyhow, cos its in there with Barry White playing his
Love Unlimited. Thats sorta like a bit degradin.
I suppose the radio plays are important in some ways. It gets you across
to more people. But as far as changing what you are, thats wrong. We
dont believe in that. You should let them come to you rather than go to
them. It would be easy to sit down and churn out about 200 love songs,
and you could guarantee one of them getting played sometimes, but
youd be selling yourself short.
Cardiff is a good one, it transpires, for the band. Although the sound is
by no means perfect in the ballroom, its loud enough and riffy enough for
the fans. Unpretentious rocknroll. It never fails.
A lotta people get us wrong, Angus complains. A lotta people say that
we cant play. Im not sayin that were special. People say that we get on
and play rocknroll and its nothin new, but we get on and play that
rocknroll because we like playin it. Its what we do best.
We just get on and play rocknroll with plenty of balls, plenty of meat,
plenty of spontaneity. Thats our main thing.
What makes ours different is that ours are good songs and we play
them well. A lotta bands can play the basics but they cant play with
quality. We can build a song at 100 miles an hour and play it right at that
speed. Its got the right feel, the right everything, whereas you get a lotta
bands who just play fast and dont give a fuck if theyre outta tune.
Good songs are essential. In the old days you
had rhythm and blues songs like Im A Man,
Chuck Berrys Schooldays. You put songs from
nowadays up against them and theyre nuffing.
Yer punk,
thats just a
hip little thing.
Its nuffin
he sCeNe ChaNges to a room at the

Cardiff Post House, where Angus
Young is plotting to revolutionise
rocknroll, and Bon Scott, suffering a headache
and jet lag, lies in a heap in the corner and isnt
remotely interested in his plans.
I suggest to Angus that theres nothing at all
serious about AC/DC. Theyre just a good-time
band, with lyrics that mean nothing and music
that is just a rehash of what has been done before like a rock version of
Barry McKenzie. He bites.
Well, we take it seriously to a point, but if everyone took it too seriously,
wed all be walking around with down faces and wed all be living in the
gutter. Bands who take themselves too seriously are fools, because
theyve taken it so seriously that theyre not allowing themselves to
enjoy it, whereas if they went on and played it as they should play it, it
would be better.
The bawdiness balances out with other things in our set, but youve got
to break up the monotony. Its like Liberace. He cant get up and play
Beethoven all night, so he bends a little. Its like if you put Beethoven and
Bach and brought all those classical people back from the dead for a
concert on TV one night and on the other channel you had the Lone
Ranger, its guaranteed the Lone Ranger would pull the biggest rating,
because its entertainment rather than pure boredom all night.
I dont know anybody whos gone to see any of these serious bands
whove enjoyed it. They may say it was great, that the music was good,
but somewhere during that set they were bored and were too scared to
admit it.
If I went to see somebody that was musical, Id yawn my head off. Id
end up walking out to the bar.
Musical, I suggest, in the sense of bands like Yes?
Yeah. To me, bands like Yes would be a bore to see, not unless they had
some Sheila strippin on stage. Well, even then, Hawkwind done that.
That shows ya what they gotta resort to, and yet people take them
seriously. Yes would probably come on with a fantastic light show.
Ive never seen them, but they probably use a light show to cover up
that theyre bored and that their music is borin and that theyre not
makin people jump.
He was saying that too many bands take themselves too seriously, they
were self-indulgent. People like John McLaughlin. But, I reply, surely
everybody in rock music is self-indulgent. Certainly, AC/DCs live act that
very night was rather self-indulgent. Bon, the sleeping beauty, emerges
from his slumber to defend Angus.
With rocknroll self-indulgence, the audience gets off on it, he
explains as he shakes off his stupor. With a Yes self-indulgence, the
audience is sittin out there baffled. They dont know what the fuck is
happenin. When youre playin clever stuff, youre being self-indulgent
and expectin the audience to cop what youre playin. In rocknroll,
which is what we play, youre givin the audience what youre doin.
With that Bon collapsed, while I tell Angus that from what he had been
saying, there must be a hell of a lot of modern bands that he doesnt like.
I was never interested in modern-day sorta music, he answers. I get
off on all the old stuff, Elvis, Chuck Berry, Little Richard, Jerry Lee, swing
records, Louis Armstrong and stuff like that.
All the other stuff seems poor in comparison, even the production. You
put Little Richards Tutti Frutti on and put the wildest thing from today
next to it and it sounds timid in comparison.
Thats what they call progression, Angus.
Well, they musta progressed the wrong way. Ill tell you when it stopped
getting good, when the Rolling Stones put out Jumpin Jack Flash and
Street Fightin Man.
Past that, theres been nothin. Led Zeppelin and all that have just been
poor imitators of The Who and bands like that. Thats when I reckon it
stopped. The rest I wouldnt even call progression.
Guys like Jeff Beck and McLaughlin , all

those guys should be playin jazz, and they wouldnt even get a good run in
those bands because theres guys whove been playin that 50 years and
would blow them off. People like Beck shouldnt even be thinkin of playin
and callin themselves rocknroll. Theyve into a different thing altogether.
The same with the Harveys and those people. Hes another selfindulgent. Get him off. Put them all away. You get a guy nowadays to come
out on a piano like Jerry Lee Lewis, writin songs like his and kickin fuck
outta the piano and rippin his shirt off, and I guarantee that within a few
years the guy would be one of the biggest things goin. If I could play the
piano, Id be doin it.
I was horrified to think that a tender 17-year-old musician was
advocating that we should do nothing but repeat what has gone before.
Its not repeating. Its just playin what has always been there. A good
song is what its all about, whether its rocknroll or not. A good song, well
played, well arranged and well presented, wild and excitin for a rock
band, which is what we are. The rest arent rocknroll and theyre wrong
to call themselves rocknroll. Theyre just bleedin hip little things. Yer
punk thing. Thats just a hip thing. Its nuffin.
The first time he heard Led Zeppelin playing real rocknroll, said
Young, was on their fourth album, on the track Rock And Roll.
Ive seen that band live and they were on for three hours, and for twoand-a-half hours they bored the people, and then at the end they pull out
old rocknroll numbers to get the crowd movin. Thats sick.
They should have went on there and done an hour of good up stuff,
which is what theyre supposed to be, the most excitin rocknroll band
in the world, them and the Stones, and theyre not playin it.
The Rolling Stones get up and play soul music. And this is supposed to
be rocknroll. Leave that to the people who do it best, the black people,
and get on and play what they are. If they played what they play best,
theyd be a hell of a lot better and theyd probably find themselves at ease.
But I was anxious to learn how AC/DC attached themselves to that
earlier rocknroll generation.
If we played Schooldays tonight, youd a seen what I mean, rockin
and excitin. Obviously, you cant go on and do it like a revival band.
Were getting on and playin it as it should be played now. So many things
now are involved. Thats not rocknroll. Bands shouldnt leave what they
play best.
Like, people go out now and buy albums just because of the name.
Rod Stewart has a new album out. Out they go and buy it. They dont give
a fuck what its like.
The same with the Rolling Stones. I heard their last album and it was
a piece of shit. One song that sounded remotely like the Rolling Stones.
The rest a cheap imitation of a poor soul band. People should be given
value for money, and theyre not.
If Angus and AC/DC have their way, it appears, there will be changes.
Mind your backs. Harry Doherty
Hulton ArcHive / Getty
AC/DC in 1977: (lr) Phil

Rudd, Angus Young,
Mark Evans, Malcolm
Young and Bon Scott
1977
a P r il june
toM Petty, the JAM,

fleetwood MAc, elviS
coStello And More
June 7, 1977: in the evening

of the day the Silver Jubilee
is celebrated with street
parties up and down the UK,
Virgin Records mark the
release of the Sex Pistols
God Save The Queen with
a boat trip down the Thames.
Seen here before the bands
performance below decks
are Johnny Rotten chatting
with filmmaker Julien Temple
(back to camera) as artist and
designer Jamie Reid looks on
Insulting
behaviour
MM June 11 Arrests
follow the Sex Pistols
Jubilee boat party.
brian cooke / getty
alcolm mclaren,
manager of the Sex Pistols,
appeared at Bow Street
Magistrates Court on Wednesday
morning, charged with insulting
behaviour, following a Virgin
Records party aboard the Thames
cruiser Queen Elizabeth the
previous evening. He pleaded
not guilty and was remanded on
100 bail until August 30.
He was one of 11 people arrested
when river police boarded the
cruiser after the Pistols had begun
to play. None of the band was
charged, but the brother of Pistols
lead singer Johnny Rotten, James
Lydon, was fined 3 after he
admitted shouting and swearing
on Victoria Embankment.
1977
a p r i l J U NE
Jordan, born Pamela
rooke on June 23, 1955:
if i ever see Freddie
Mercury, ill tip
something over him
I have faith
in the clothes
NME APR 16 A meeting with Jordan, punk
face and close friend of Johnny Rotten.
nderneath the thick black
lines and heavily rouged cheeks there
might well be a stunning female
trying to get out. Its so hard to tell, my dears,
for Jordan does such a good job of covering
up any good features she may possess. Even
her hair (brown at the roots, white at the tips)
is engulfed in a thick layer of lacquer.
Jordan (real name Pamela) is something
of a star. Although shes a shop assistant (in
Seditionaries, the shop owned by Sex Pistols
manager Malcolm McLaren) theres little that
is mere routine in her life. Because of her looks
and associations with the new wave, when she
went to America recently she was given the
star treatment and even got a spot on TV.
Johnny Rotten is a close friend (yes, he
does have some), and if hes bored, down or
just plain fed up, invariably it is Jordan he
phones to cheer his flagging spirits.
I met Jordan at the shop, situated, ironically
enough, next door to a Conservative club, but
there was little conversation about her as she
strode purposefully across the road, seeming
oblivious to the open-mouthed stare of Joe
Public. Her obsession is fashion. So every
incident in her life (she is 20) is referred to via
associations with clothes worn and makeup
applied. School was her pink period (I had
bright-pink hair.). Harrods (yes, Harrods) was
her green period. America? Well, that was
when she was into rubber. Spring 77 finds her
clad mostly in black. A black jacket resembling
rex features
a straitjacket, all zips and bits), and black

suede boots. The only break is vivid pink
rouge and brightly coloured lipstick.
This strange fashion-conscious lady
originated from Seaford, a quiet backwater
near Brighton. Her parents werent into
fashion or theatre, but by the age of seven it
was obvious their offspring was My father,
says Jordan in a well-educated voice, was
a clerk. My mother was a barmaid [both are
now retired]. Theyll never get used to the fact
that I didnt turn out the way they wanted.
And her mode of dress
has also presented
numerous problems with, er,
the opposite sex. Ive been
walking out with people,
totally ordinary people, and
theyve freaked out just
going down the street with
me. Even the police have shown an interest in
Jordan. They once tried to arrest me for being
indecently dressed in public. And what was
the sweet girl wearing at the time? Stilettos,
stockings with huge holes, see-through
knickers and see-through bra. Ah, I see.
Prior to Seditionaries, Jordan worked for
a time in Eastbourne Where I dressed the
same. She later worked at Way In at Harrods,
where they were very good and never said
anything about my green lipstick or makeup.
She adores working for Malcolm. Im very
involved in the shop and have great faith in the
clothes. Vivienne [Westwood, McLarens

girlfriend] and Malcolm are the two most
creative people around.
Jordan was one of the first people to
ever clap eyes on the Pistols. I remember
watching them rehearse in Hammersmith
before John was in the band. He was just
a customer then. As a close associate of
Mr Rottens, can she tell when he is putting
on an act? It has been suggested that Mr
Rotten deliberately does so whenever a
member of the press is present. He never
puts on an act he wont compromise. If he
feels like spitting, hell spit.
Jordan sees Seditionaries as the hub
of the situation that young people are in.
And she adds: We get other bands in the
shop to get the clothes the Pistols wear.
Mr Big even came in to buy vinyl trousers.
For some obscure reason Jordan does
not like Queen. If I ever see Freddie
Mercury in public, no doubt Ill tip
something over him, she confides.
What, I wondered, has Freddie done to
incur such wrath? Actually, Ive never met
him; only the drummer. Its just that they
cater for a certain kind of people hippy
college people and I feel violent towards
him. I dont like what hes doing.
Jordan is not exactly modest when
talking of her success when she visited
America recently. I was knockout, she
says. There were pictures of me in
Womans Wear Daily and I even made
Channel 3 news. That was the time I was
wearing rubber Rubber what,
precisely? Stockings, skirt
Not surprisingly, boyfriends never seem
to feature in Jordans life. Nor have they
done so in the past. I was very much an
outcast at school. If it was kiss chase, theyd
run away from me. No boy would touch me. Still,
I didnt really want their attention. But I was
very hard up for people on my wavelength.
Now, of course, there are many others who
share the outlook, although its still difficult to
walk down the street without getting rude
remarks or gaping stares. I remember once
getting on a train and sitting opposite a
woman with her young son. First she stared
and then she asked the boy: Is that woman
opposite upsetting you? He nodded. Then
she asked if I would kindly leave the carriage.
Well, of course I didnt!
Next thing she asked me
was if I was a stripper. So I
turned round and asked
her, Do you think strippers
look like me? And I also said
that if I had a son like that Id
throw him out the door.
Back on the subject of Rotten, Jordan
claims, Hes not really interested in
permanent girlfriends. But he does need
someone to pour his thoughts out to. Hell ring
up and say, Please come over and keep me
sane. He said to me he liked me better than
anyone because he liked my clothes and he felt
I had the potential to say what I wanted.
And on these evenings, how (dare I ask?) do
they spend their time? We listen to an awful
lot of reggae. John really likes reggae. Its the
only thing we ever dance to. So now we know,
my angels. Velda Daquiri
I was very hard

up for people on my
wavelength
Wilko Johnson (left),

who leaves dr Feelgood
during the recording of
third studio album
Sneakin Suspicion
In exchange
for beer
MM APRIl 16 Beatles Hamburg
recordings are legally contested.
WO LiVe BeatLes albums are set for
release within three weeks of each
other thanks to the bands failure to
win a court injunction preventing the release
of the unofficial Hamburg Tapes album.
The Beatles and Apple attempted to get
the High Court to prevent the release of The
Beatles Live At The Star Club. The album
comes from a tape made by 60s Liverpool
rock singer Ted Kingsize Taylor.
But High Court vice-chancellor Sir Robert
Megarry turned down the application after
hearing Taylor say that The Beatles had
originally agreed to the tape provided he
bought them beer.
The decision was bad news for EMI, who
are planning to release a live album which
comes from a tape of the bands concert at
the Hollywood Bowl in 1964.
That album is expected to be released on
May 1, but no one from EMI would comment
this week on a definite release date. They
also remained silent about the High Court
decision on the Hamburg album.
The Hamburg album should have been
available in Britain last week, but the release
was held up by the airport workers industrial
action. There are 100,000 copies of the
album in Germany, where they were
manufactured, waiting to be flown to Britain
at press time.
The albums are on Paul Murphys
Lingasong
label and
will retail
at 4.99.
None will be
pressed in
Britain.
Murphy, who
bought the
tapes from
Taylor, was
unavailable
for comment
at press time.
MM APRIl 9 Wilko Johnson leaves Dr

Feelgood, citing musical differences.
UITARIST WIlko JohnSon has left Dr Feelgood on the eve of a major British tour by
the band. Johnson, who was a founder member, parted company with the Feelgoods over
musical differences. Fred Munt, the bands tour manager, told the MM that the split came
when the rest of the band called Wilkos bluff.
Wilko gave an ultimatum that if they recorded a track called Lucky Seven, he would leave the
band. He didnt feel it was the Feelgoods type of music. But the rest of the band and the record
company loved the song and insisted that it stay on the album, he said.
The tour, which opens at Exeter University on May 12, will be the debut of a new guitarist,
unnamed but already rehearsing with the rest of the band. He is from Southend.
Before leaving the band, Johnson recorded a new album with the Feelgoods at Rockfield
Studios in Wales. It is scheduled for release in mid-May. Johnson has not yet announced what his
future plans are.
The Feelgoods tour is designed to cover the areas not regularly played by the band, including,
in response to letters from fans, two West Country dates. The band plan to tour Britain again in
September, following their return from the USA.
The full tour schedule is: Exeter University (May 12), Bracknell Sports Centre (13), Crawley
Sports Centre (14), Wolverhampton Civic Hall (15), Norwich St Andrews Hall (17), Ispwich
Gaumont (18), London Hammersmith Odeon (19), Malvern Winter Gardens (20), Salford
University (21) and Coventry Theatre (22). Support on the tour is the Lew Lewis Band.
An unspecified figure
Fter Weeks OF speculation, it was
confirmed this week that the Sex
Pistols have signed with Virgin
Records for an unspecified figure.
And their much-delayed new single
God Save The Queen is the first
release under the new deal it comes
out next Friday, May 27.
The Pistols have also nearly
completed work on an album, and
a Virgin spokesman described the
advance orders for both LP and single
as massive. A huge marketing
NME MAY21 The Sex Pistols sign to Virgin. A new

single, God Save The Queen, is imminent.
campaign is being mounted by Virgin to

announce the new contract and upcoming
single, but plans to advertise it on ITV last
weekend were thwarted when both Thames

and London Weekend rejected the
commercial, even though it was described as
not offensive or controversial.
The Pistols have been without
a record deal since their dramatic
departures from EMI and A&M.
Now they are back in business again,
they plan to return to the gig circuit
in the near future provided they
can obtain bookings. Existing bans
on the group are, apparently, still in
operation at many venues.
gus stewart / getty
Called his bluff

G
1977
a p r i l J U NE
On the tube, in the caff and overlooking the

Westway with THE CLASH, spokesmen for
disaffected youth. However raw, their message
will find its audience. Its not for them if they
cant understand it, says JOE STRUMMER.
We aint
ashamed
to fight
NME APRIL 2
t aint punk, it aint new wave, its the next step and the
logical progression for groups to move in. Call it what you
want all the terms stink. Just call it rocknroll
You dont know what total commitment is until youve met
Mick Jones of the Clash. Hes intense, emotional, manicdepressive and plays lead guitar with the kind of suicidal
energy that some musicians lose and most musicians never have. His
relationship with Joe Strummer and paul Simonon is the love/hate intensity
that you only get with family.
My parents never the people involved with the
Clash are my family
the Clash and me are sitting around a British Rail
table in one of those railway-station cafes where
the puce-coloured paint on the wall is peeling and
lethargic non-white slave labour serves you tea that
tastes like cat urine.
Joe Strummer is an ex-101er and the mutant offspring
of Bruce Lees legacy a no-bullshit sense of tough that
Erica EchEnbErg / gEtty
I
May 9, 1977: (lr) Joe Strummer,

Paul Simonon and Mick Jones
backstage at North Londons
Rainbow on the White Riot Tour
1977
a p r i l J U NE
means he can talk about a thrashing he took a while back from some
giant, psychotic Teddy boy without the slightest pretension, self-pity or
sense of martyrdom.
I was too pissed to deal with it and he got me in the toilets for a while,
Joe says. I had a knife with me and I shoulda stuck it in him, right? But
when it came to it I remember vaguely thinking that it wasnt really
worth it, cos although he was battering me about the floor I was too
drunk for it to hurt that much and if I stuck a knife in him Id probably
have to do a few years
When The Clash put paint-slashed slogans on their family-created
urban battle fatigues such as Hate And War its not a cute turnaround
of a flowery spiel from 10 years ago its a brutally honest comment on the
environment theyre living in.
Theyve had aggravation with everyone from Teds to students to
Anglo-rednecks, all of them frightened pigs attacking what they cant
understand. But this aint the summer of love and The Clash would rather
be kicked into hospital than flash a peace sign and turn the other cheek.
We aint ashamed to fight, Mick says.
We should carry spray cans about with us, Paul Simonon suggests.
Hes the spike-haired bass player with considerable pulling power.
Even my kid sister fancies him. Hes from a South London ex-skinhead
background; white Sta-Prest Levis strides, highly polished DM boots,
button-down Ben Sherman shirt, thin braces, eighth-of-an-inch cropped
hair and over the football on a Saturday running with The Shed because
for the first time in your life the society that produced you was terrified of
you. And it made you feel good
Paul came out of that, getting into rocknroll at the start of last year and
one of the first bands he ever saw was the Sex Pistols. Pure late-70s rock,
Paul Simonon. In Patti Smiths estimation he
rates alongside Keef and Rimbaud. He knew
exactly what he was doing when he named the
band The Clash
The hostilities, Mick Jones calls the violent
reactions they often provoke.
Or maybe those Lemon Squeezers, Paul
says, seeking the perfect weapon for protection
when trouble starts and youre outnumbered
10 to one.
The rodent-like features of their shavenheaded ex-jailbird roadie known, among other
things, as Rodent break into a cynical smirk.
Dont get it on their drapes otherwise they get
really mad, he quips. He went along to see The
Clash soon after his release from
prison. At the time he was carrying
a copy of Mein Kampf around with
him. Prison can mess up your head.
Strummer, in his usual manner
of abusive honesty, straightened
him out. Rodents been with them
ever since and sleeps on the floor of
their studio.
The Clash demand total dedication
from everyone involved with the
band, a sense of responsibility that
must never be betrayed no matter
what internal feuds, ego clashes or
personality crisis may go down.
Anyone who doesnt have that
attitude will not remain with The
Clash for very long, and thats the
reason for the bands biggest
problem they aint got a drummer.
The emotive Mick explodes at the
mention of this yawning gap in the
lineup and launches into a streamof-consciousness expletive-deleted
soliloquy with talk of drummers
who bottled out of broken glass
confrontations, drummers whose
egos outweighed their creative
talent, drummers who are going to
get their legs broken.
Forget it, its in the past now, Joe tells him quietly, with just a few words
cooling out Micks anger and replacing it with something positive. If any
drummer thinks he can make it, then we wanna know.
Were going to the Pistols gig tonight to find a new drummer! Mick
says excitedly. But they gotta prove themselves, he adds passionately.
They gotta believe in whats happening. And they gotta tell the truth
he band and Rodent have their passport photos taken in a
booth on the station. Four black-and-white shots for 20 pence.
They pool their change and after one of them has had the
necessary two pictures taken the next one dives in quickly to replace
him before the white flash explodes.
When youre on 25 quid a week, the stories of one quarter of a million
dollars for the cocaine bill of a tax-exile rock-establishment band seem
like a sick joke
The Human Freight of the London Underground rush hour regard The
Clash with a culture-shock synthesis of hate, fear, and suspicion. The
Human Freight have escaped the offices and are pouring out to the
suburbs until tomorrow. Stacked haunch to paunch in an atmosphere of
stale sweat, bad breath and city air, the only thing that jolts them out of
their usual mood of apathetic surrender is the presence of The Clash.
Because somethings happening here but The Human Freight dont know
what it is
Everybodys doing just what theyre told to/Nobody wants to go to jail/
White riot/I wanna riot/White riot/A riot of me own!/Are you taking over or
are you taking orders?/Are you going backwards or are you going forwards?
White Riot and The Sound Of The Westway, the giant inner-city
flyover and futuristic backdrop for this countrys first major race riot
since 1959. Played with the speed of the
Westway, a GBH treble that is as impossible
to ignore as the police siren that opens the
single or the alarm bell that closes it.
Rocknroll for the late 1970s updating their
various influences (Jones the New York Dolls,
MC5, Stooges, vintage Stones; Simonon
Pistols, Ramones, Heartbreakers; and
Strummer totally eclectic) and then adding
something of their very own. The sense of flash
of beach-fighting mods speeding through three
weekend nights non-stop, coupled with an
ability to write songs of contemporary urban
imagery that are a perfect reflection of the life
of any kid who came of age in the 70s.
The former makes The Clash
live raw-nerve electric, a level of
excitement generated that can only
be equalled by one other band
Johnny Thunders Heartbreakers.
The latter makes The Clash, or
maybe specifically Jones and
Strummer (as Simonon has only
recently started writing), the
fulfilment of the original aim of the
new wave, punk rock, whatever; that
is, to write songs about late-70s
British youth culture with the
accuracy, honesty, perception and
genuine anger that Elvis, Beatles or
The Rolling Stones or any others in
the Rock Establishment could never
do now that theyre closer to
members of the Royal Family or
facelift lard-arse movie stars than
they are to you or me.
But so many bands coming
through now are churning out
cliched platitudes and political
nursery rhymes. The Blank
Generation is the antithesis of
what The Clash are about
Strummer and Jones disagree on
the best environment for a new band
to develop and keep growing. Joe
Were going
to the Pistols
gig tonight to
find a new
drummer!
thinks its all too

easy right now,
Clash roadie
and having to
Rodent, who
fight every inch
sleeps on the
of the way when
floor of their
rehearsal studio
the band was
formed a year
ago is the
healthiest situation whereas Mick believes in giving every help and
encouragement possible while being totally honest with bands who are
just not delivering the goods.
Im as honest as I can be, he shouts over the roar of the tube train. All
the new groups sound like drones and I aint seen a good new group for six
months. Their sound just aint exciting, they need two years
The sound of The Clash has evolved, with their experience this year in
the recording studio first with Polydor, when they were dangling a
contract, and more recently recording their first album after CBS
snapped them up at the 11th hour. The change in the sound first struck
me as a regulation of energy, exerting a razor-sharp adrenalin control
over their primal amphetamined rush. It created a new air of tension
added to the ever-present manic drive that has always existed in their
music, The Sound Of The Westway
And, of course, the subtle-yet-indefinite shift in emphasis is perfect for
the feeling thats in the air in the United Kingdom, one quarter of 1977
already gone: In 1977 youre on the never-never/You think it cant go on
forever/But the papers say its better/I dont care/Cos Im not all there/No
Elvis, Beatles or The Rolling Stones/In 1977.
1977, the other side of the single, ends with the three-pronged attack
shouting in harmonies derived from football terraces: 1984!
he pressure. ThaTs what they call the
heavy atmosphere in Jamaica, the feeling in
the air that very soon, something has got to
change The Jamaican culture is highly revered by
The Clash. They hang out in black clubs, pick up
reggae import singles in shops where it aint really
wise for them to tread, and express their disgust at
the undeniable fact that in the poor working-class
areas of London where they grew up and still live
the blacks are treated even worse than the whites.
But, ultimately, they know that White Youth needs its own sense of
identity, culture and heritage if theyre going to fight for change. A riot of
their own
But can the masses take to the incisive reality of what The Clash are
about and why they lap up the straight-ahead rock bands who push
nothing more than having a good time?
Maybe the reason those bands are so big is because they dont say
anything, Mick says. But we aint gonna preach and sound like
some evangelist.
I mention to Joe what happened when he walked on stage at Leeds Poly
for the first gig that actually happened on the Pistols Anarchy Tour. He
said a few words before the band went into the set that theyd been
burning to play for weeks, about how the gutter-press hysteria, localcouncil butchery and Mary Whitehouse mentality of The Great British
People was preventing certain young rock bands getting onstage and
playing for the people who wanted to see them. I remember him saying
that 1984 seemed to have arrived early as the Leeds Poly students bawled
abuse at him. With the minds and manners of barnyard pigs, the overgrown schoolchildren conveyed the message that they didnt give a shit.
I think they will take to us, but itll take time, Joe says. But I dont want
to go towards them at all, I dont wanna start getting soft around the
edges. I dont want to compromise I think theyll come round in time,
but if they dont its too bad.
We aint never gonna get commercial respectability, Mick says, both
anger and despair in his voice.
Paul Simonon takes it all in and then ponders the nearest station that
has a bar on the platform.
Thats the difference between their attitudes to, how you say, Making It.
Strummer is confident, determined, arrogant and sometimes violent in
the face of ignorant opposition (a couple of months back in a club car park
he faced an American redneck rock band with just
his blade for support).
Mick Jones is a rock equivalent to a kamikaze
pilot. All or nothing. The Clash gives him both the
chance to pour out his emotional turmoil and offer
an escape route from the life the assembly-line
education the country gave him had primed him
for. When a careers officer at school spends five
minutes with you and tells you what youre gonna
do with your life for the next 50 years. More fodder
ray stevenson / elisa leonelli / rex features
Theyll take to us, but

itll take time: The
Clash on stage in 1977
1977
chalkie davies / getty
a p r i l J U NE
for the big corporations and the dole. Mick is beating them at their own
game by ignoring all the rules.
Someone locked me out, so I kicked me way back in, he declares in Hate
And War.
His uncanny resemblance to a young Keef Richard allowed him to
relieve an early identity problem by adopting the lookalike con trick
which fools no one but yourself. Then he met Strummer, who told him he
was wearing a Keith Richard identikit as though he had bought it in a shop.
I got my self-respect in this group, Mick says, I dont believe in guitar
heroes. If I walk out to the front of the stage its because I wanna reach the
audience, I want to communicate with them. I dont want them to suck
my guitar off
And Paul Simonon: total hedonist. His fondest memories of the
Anarchy Tour are hotel-room parties and broken chairs, things trod
into the carpet and girls who got you worried because you thought they
were gonna die like Jimi Hendrix if they didnt wake up. Hes a member
of The Clash because theyre the best band in the country and it gets him
laid a lot.
So what did they learn from the Anarchy Tour, so effectively butchered
by the self-righteous Tin Gods who pull the strings?
I learned that if they dont want you to play they can stop you, Joe says
seriously. And no ones gonna raise any fuss
Ladbroke Grove
habitus Mick
Jones and Joe
Strummer on
the Circle Line
in April 1977
For the first four days we were confined to our rooms because the News
Of The World was next door, Mick continues. We thought, Shall we go
out there with syringes stuck in our arms just to get em going? Yeah, and
furniture seemed to have labels saying, Please smash me or Out the
window, please.
And when they finally got to play, the minds in the Institutes Of Further
Education were as narrow as those in Fleet Street. So Strummer gave
them something even though they were too blind to see it
This ones for all you students, he sneered before The Clash tore into
the song that they wrote about Joe being on the dole for so long that the
Department Of Employment (sic) wanted to send him to rehabilitation
to give him back the confidence that they assumed the dole must have
destroyed, together with Micks experience working for the Social
Security office in West London, and, as the most junior employee, being
told to open all the mail during the time of the IRA letter-bombs.
The song is called Career Opportunities: Career opportunities/The
ones that never knock/Every job they offer you/Is to keep ya out the dock/
Career opportunities/They offered me the office/They offered me the shop/
They said Id better take ANYTHING THEY GOT/Do you wanna make tea
for the BBC?/Do you wanna be, do you wanna be a cop?/I hate the army
and I hate the RAF/You wont get me fighting in the tropical heat/I hate the
Civil Service rules/And I aint gonna open letter bombs for you!
Most bands and writers who talk about the dole
DUNNO WHAT THE DOLE IS! Mick shouts. Theyve
never been on the dole in their life. But the dole is only
hard if youve been conditioned to think youve gotta
have a job then its sheer degradation.
The Social Security made me open the letters during
the letter bomb time because I looked subversive. Most
of the letters the Social Security get are from people who
live next door saying their neighbours dont need the
money. The whole thing works on spite. One day an Irish
guy that they had treated like shit and kept waiting for
three hours picked up a wooden bench and put it through
the window into Praed Street.
Mick shakes his head in disgust at the memory of the
way our great Welfare State treats its subjects.
Every time I didnt have a job I was down there
waiting. And they degrade the black youth even more.
They have to wait even longer. No one can tell me there
aint any prejudice
e make for Rehearsal Rehearsals,

the North London studio of The Clash.
An enormous building once used by the
British Rail for a warehouse. Only part of it is in use at
the moment, a large expanse of property ruled by no
lighting, rats and water.
Upstairs, Joe, Mick and Paul look glad to have guitars
in their hands again. The walls are covered with posters
of Bruce Lee, Patti Smith, the Pistols and The Clash
themselves. A large map of the United Kingdom faces
the old TV set where Hughie Green is being sincere
with the speech turned down. Biro graffiti stains the
screen. The television is not treated like the Holy Grail
in this place
I watch Joe playing a battered old guitar with all but two
of its strings missing and I think about his comments
when I wanted to know how he would cope with financial
success when/if it came
I aint gonna fuck myself up like I seen all those other
guys fuck themselves up, he said. Keeping all their
money for themselves and getting into their head and
thinking theyre the greatest. Ive planned what Im
gonna do with my money if it happens. Secret plans
I could be wrong, but at a guess the development of
Rehearsal Rehearsals into anything from a recording
studio to a rock venue to a radio/TV station seem like
possible Strummer visions for when The Clash get the
mass acceptance they deserve.
As we talk about how The Clash have reacted to putting
their music down on vinyl, I tell them that the major
criticism people not cognisant with their songs have
Ive planned what

Im gonna do with my
money if it happens:
Joe Strummer in 1977
as Mick Jones puts it one of the cages and

see that London is still burning
All across the town/All across the night/
Everybodys driving with four headlights/
Black or white, turn it on, face the new religion/
Everybodys drowning in a sea of television/Up
and down the Westway/In and out the lights/
What a great traffic system/Its so bright/I cant
think of a better way to spend the night/Than
speeding around underneath the yellow lights/
But now Im in the subway looking for the flat/This
one leads to this block and this one leads to that/
The wind howls through the empty blocks looking
for a home/But I run through the empty stone
because Im all alone/Londons burning, baby
Each of these high-rise estates has got those places where kids wear
soldiers uniforms and get army drill, Mick says quietly. Indoctrination
to keep them off the streets and they got an artist to paint pictures of
happy workers on the side of the Westway. Labour liberates and dont
forget your place.
He looks down at
the fire hundreds
of feet below.
Can you
understand how
much I hate this
place? he asks me.
1977 is the year
of The Clash.
Bernie was
always
helping long
before he was
our manager
t has been over a year since Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and their
friend Glenn Matlock first met Joe Strummer down the Portobello
Road and told him that he was great but his band was shit. Later Joe
talked to Bernard Rhodes, and 24 hours after that he showed up on the
doorstep of the squat where Mick and Paul were living and told them
he wanted in on the band that would be known as The Clash.
And from the top of the monolith tower block where they wrote their
celebration of the Westway, you can gaze down through the window of
Tony Parsons
ian dickson / rex features
expressed is that the unique Strummer vocal

makes understanding their brilliant lyrics
almost impossible for the uninitiated.
The first time we went into a studio with
a famous producer he said, You better
pronounce the words, right? Joe remembers
with his amused sneer. So I did it and it
sounded like Matt Monroe. So I thought Im never
doing that again to me our music is like Jamaican stuff
if they cant hear it, theyre not supposed to hear it. Its not for
them if they cant understand it.
The Clash say that being signed with CBS has had no
interference with the preservation of their integrity and,
even with the bands attitude of No Compromise, a
termination of contract in the manner of the Pistols seems
most unlikely.
They believe the sound on the album to be infinitely
superior to that of the single because the latter was cut during
one of their first sessions in the studio after the decision to let
their soundman Micky Foote produce the band, even though
he had no previous experience in production.
We tried the famous ones, Joe grins. They were all too
pissed to work.
Outside, there aint no young producers in tune with
whats going on, Mick says. The only way to do it is to learn
how to do it yourself.
You do it yourself because nobody else cares that much,
Micky Foote, Boy Wonder Producer tells me, his sentiments
totally in keeping with the clan spirit in The Clash camp.
The band talk of their respect for their manager Bernard
Rhodes, who has been a major influence on all of them,
and who has made enemies because of his obsessive
commitment to The Clash. But Joe, Mick and Paul are
free spirits, unlike a lot of bands with heavy personality
management.
He really pushes us, Paul says.
We do respect him, Mick adds.
He was always helping and giving constructive
criticism long before he was our manager, Mick then
points at the other members of the band and himself.
But the heart is there.
I ask them about their political leanings. Do they believe
in left and right or is there just up and down?
They reply by telling me about a leftish
workshop they used to frequent because they
enjoyed the atmosphere and also because it
gave them an opportunity to nick the paints
they needed for their artwork.
It was really exhilarating there, Mick says.
They used to play Chinese revolutionary
records and then one day the National Front
threw bricks through the window. The place
didnt shut, though. So one day they burned the
whole joint down and they had to close down
In 1977 theres knives in West 11/Aint so
lucky to be rich/Sten guns in Knightsbridge/
Danger stranger, you better paint your face/No
Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones/In 1977/Sod
the Jubilee!
I always thought in terms of survival, Mick says. And these people are
the opposition of free speech and personal liberty. And theyre trying to
manipulate the rock medium.
Then he repeats something he said earlier, reiterating the importance of
The Clash: And I aint ashamed to fight
1977
a p r i l J U NE
Like being
in group
therapy!
Break-ups, reconciliations, great music
FLEETWOOD MACs Rumours provides one
of the most compelling stories of 1977. Now
we can make jokes, says Mick Fleetwood,
but it wasnt very funny at the time.
sam emerson / polaris / eyevine
NME APRIL 2
OME NEWSPAPERS EMPlOy scribes whose sole function is

to regularly update the unpublished obituaries of prominent
personalities so as to be in at the kill on their demise.
Something of a dead-end job, as it were. However, it would
take scores of full-time researchers to keep abreast of the
fluctuating fortunes of Fleetwood Mac the band that
continues to exist despite itself.
In the 10 years since they debuted at the National Blues & Jazz Festival in
Windsor, Fleetwood Mac have transmogrified from a star-crossed guitar
hero-dominated cult blues band into Warner Brothers Records biggest ever
album-selling attraction.
But it has been a career continually fraught with impending disaster.
Guitarists have quit under harrowing banner headlines, bogus lineups have
laid claim to the name, and those original members whove stuck it out have
enacted more melodramas than a whole slew of soap-opera scriptwriters
could have conceived in a lifetime. In truth, all aspects of human emotion are
to be found in Fleetwood Mac.
Bands have broken up for much less, but Mac stubbornly refuses to roll over
and expire. Call it masochistic, but the band appears to thrive on one Big Hurt
after another.
Until the middle of last year, Fleetwood Mac had resigned themselves to the
fact that they worked to live, lived to work, and werent in a position to rest up
for a year or more to rethink or record. Their albums always got reviewed,
made a brief, if not auspicious appearance in the best-sellers and received
more air time than that usually afforded albums enjoying much more
commercial success on the charts. It may not have been la Dolce Vita but it
was a fairly comfortable existence.
Fleetwood Mac in Los

Angeles, 1977: (lr)
Lindsey Buckingham,
Stevie Nicks, John
McVie, Christine McVie
and Mick Fleetwood
1977
Birmingh
am
OdeOn
a p r i l J U NE
Craft and precision
LIVE!
aPriL 2
mm aPr 9 The latest-lineup mac score an

impressive victory at their first UK concert.
heir technically
impeccable performance
was rewarded with a series
of standing ovations, and by
the end of the set half the
audience were out of their seats,
crowding the stage and dancing
in the aisles.
That in itself was something of
a triumph since Birmingham
audiences have never been
noted for enthusiasm on this
scale. For Christine McVie it
must have been a particularly
emotional experience; it marked
her first performance in her
hometown for seven years.
Fleetwood Mac played for
around 90 minutes, dovetailing
old and new songs with
craftsman-like precision. Only
at one stage did they allow their
faultless pacing to slip, when
they encored with the slowmoving Hypnotised; but by
then most of the audience would
probably have been content to
listen to Stevie Nicks read the
football results. The bands
performance was a pleasant
surprise for me because neither
of their two recent hit albums,
Fleetwood Mac and Rumours,
offered the excitement of
earlier work
from previous
lineups of
the band.
On stage,
however, they
were an
entirely
different
proposition.
Lindsey
Buckingham
was excellent, both vocally and,
more particularly, on guitar;
there was a notable solo at the
end of The Chain, while on
acoustic guitar he performed
a particularly engaging version
of Never Going Back Again.
On the latter he was joined by
John McVie, playing a giantsized acoustic bass guitar. McVie
was calmly
impressive
throughout,
his assured
work with
drummer
Mick
Fleetwood
born of a
decade of playing together.

Fleetwood, looking manic with
his mouth leering open for most
of the night, played one of the
nicest drum solos Ive heard for
a long time on World Turning.
He left his kit, strapped on an
African talking drum, and took
stage centre to beat out a
delightfully novel rhythm.
Christine McVie kept her
keyboard work pure and simple
most of the time, and her best
moments came when she gave
full reign to that excellent
mellow voice on Oh Daddy. By
comparison Stevie Nicks was
much more raucous, but she
displayed a tremendous vocal
range and an enthusiasm which
one rarely sees on stage at the
moment. I was less enamoured
of her stage movements: she
seems to think she is an
exponent of modern dance, but
her posturing belonged more to
a Hammer horror rising-fromthe grave sequence than to the
dance theatre of Harlem.
However, her raunchy antics
caused a stir among the male
section of the audience, some of
whom seemed to enjoy her
costume changes more than the
music. The
warmest
responses of
the evening
were reserved
for Go Your
Own Way,
Over My
Head and an
exceptional
turn by
Buckingham
on the old favourite Oh Well.
I have just two reservations
about the new Fleetwood Mac.
Firstly, theyre not nearly as
adventurous as they might be.
I reiterate that they belong to
the Peter Frampton progressive
MOR school, which is currently
lucrative but scarcely stands
exposure for any length of time.
Secondly, none of their work
sticks in the mind for longer than
about 15 minutes after hearing
it; that indicates shallowness.
However, if they can maintain
the sort of technical standard in
concert that they attained in
Birmingham, their success in
Britain is assured. Brian Harrigan
Michael Ochs archives/getty
Fleetwood left his

kit, strapped on
an african talking
drum and took
centre stage
nicks and buckingham

previously both a musical
and romantic pairing
perform on stage with
Fleetwood mac in 1977
ETS START in 1975: after a four-year residency, American

guitarist Bob Welch became yet another Mac statistic, being
unceremoniously replaced by the highly attractive boy/girl
team of Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks. After just 10 days of
routining new material, the refurbished lineup of Mick Fleetwood,
Christine and John McVie and Buckingham and Nicks were in the
studio recording a bunch of originals subsequently released under
the unadventurous title Fleetwood Mac.
At first, nothing much happened and a six-month road tour ensued
before (professionally) their fortunes were to take a turn for the better. It
was during this period that deep cracks began to appear in their personal
stability, and almost on cue Fleetwood Mac went into yet another all-toofamiliar nosedive.
Christine and John McVie separated mid-tour, adding the cost of an
extra hotel room to the bands travel budget; and after six years of being
inseparable Buckingham and Nicks ceased cohabiting and Mick
Fleetwood, desperately trying to play piggy-in-the-middle, realised that
his own marriage had hit the skids. Bands have broken up for much less.
But not Fleetwood Mac.
Contrary to belief, pressure of success wasnt the cause. Fleetwood Mac
had yet to take off like an epidemic, sell in excess of four million albums
Stateside and hatch three hit singles, Rhiannon, Over My Head and
Say You Love Me. Everyone just fell out of love with one another at
precisely the same moment.
So three broken homes for sale. John and his collection of penguin
statuettes moved out of the McVies Malibu apartment on to a 41-foot
schooner, while Christine set up a home overlooking the hustle and bustle
of Sunset Strip. Lindsey and Stevie established singles lifestyles, and Mick
and Jenny Fleetwood divorced, though they were later to remarry.
To add to their immediate problems, Mac were attempting to record
tracks for what would eventually evolve into Rumours.
Being in Fleetwood Mac, is more like being in group therapy! Who
said that?
It was drummer and Mac manager elect Mick Fleetwood. He is trying to
fight off a head cold as we sit jawing in the pleasant rustic atmosphere of
Seedy Management, situated by the gates of the Columbia movie lot in
the very heart of Hollywood Babylon. Its a typical Californian spring
morning. Warm, sunny, light to variable. Definitely not the kind of day to
be feeling one degree under.
However, with typical British reserve, Mick Fleetwood has mastered
the art of coping with any and every situation. And his resilience must
be contagious because Lindsey Buckingham en route to having his
wisdom teeth yanked shows no apparent signs of fear.
Over the last year Fleetwood Mac have supplied Americas dirt-diggin
gossip columnists with more copy than the Burton/Taylor divorce-
FLEETWOOD MAC
reconciliation-divorce-marriagego-round, to the extent that Macs

marital shenanigans have been
likened to everything from Peyton
Place to Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.
As it transpires, it took a whole year to
record Rumours, the project being near
completed long before Fleetwood Mac began to be
pressed up in platinum the latter album having pursued
an eccentric pathway towards success. According to Mr
Fleetwood it originally reached as high as No 9 and
dropped to 40 before it regained its upward curve.
Fleetwood Mac the Californian soundtrack of 76.
Even Mick Fleetwood has long since given up trying to
evaluate its phenomenal success in the Americas and its
apathetic reception in the Old Country. Its happened
and hes thankful, but hes not about to go into deep
analysis on the subject. Obviously, the introduction of
two singer-songwriters had a great deal to do with it, but
as Mick points out, Fleetwood Mac has never conformed
to one specific, recognisable style.
Nobody, he suggests between sniffles, who has ever
joined this band has been forced to structure their music
to conform. Youve only got to flick through our mess of
albums to see that. He emphasises the word mess.
I can remember when Danny Kirwan joined, Peter
[Green] turned round to him and casually said, Right,
lad, youve got half the album, and Then Play On contains
a lot of new things that nobody had ever heard on a Fleetwood Mac album
before. Lots of bands wouldnt take that kind of risk. We do. And I think
its healthy.
As to the bands resurgence of popularity, both
Fleetwood and Buckingham agree with my
theory that primarily the present lineup is
a singles band utilising an album formula.
Theres a lot of flexibility and versatility
within the current set-up, Buckingham
interjects before leaving for his dental
appointment. Even with three separate lead
vocalists theres still this cohesive continuity, so
it doesnt really matter if either Christine, Stevie
or myself are taking the lead.
As a contributor, he concludes, I feel that
much of Fleetwood Macs strength is in the fact
that only the very best material makes it on to an
album. And, as there
are three main writers, it makes
competition that much keener.
Mick Fleetwood agrees: This way
theres no strain on any particular
writer. Nobody is constantly under
extreme pressure to write all the
material for the next album. So thats
no problem.
Yet problems the kind that floor
you have become an integral part
of Macs very existence.
Why have they always refused to
throw in the towel?
Over the years, says Fleetwood,
weve been so wrapped up in our
destiny that, though offers have been
forthcoming, the idea of being
somewhere else, playing in
another band, has never
really appealed to either
John, Christine or myself.
Its as simple as that.
According to the
drummer, nobody with
the exception of Danny
Kirwan has ever quit
Fleetwood Mac because of
the overall encompassing excuse of difference of musical policy. From

his lofty vantage point of manager-performer and pillar of strength, he
opines that being in the band may well bring out the weak points in a
persons character, but by the same token it strengthens others. He cites
the recording of Rumours as testament.
When the shit hit the fan everybody probably thought that this really
was the end of Fleetwood Mac, and that it would be impossible to work
under such intense conditions. Theoretically, it was a helluva bad time to
try and record a new album, but in retrospect it proved to be the reverse.
Because it all came out in the music.
As a result, Rumours is an album of strong personal emotions
persistent, soul-searching and currently Americas best-seller. Still, it
cant have been easy spending nine weeks incarcerated in the Record
Plants Sausalito studio with everyone falling apart at the seams and
a recording desk that all but destroyed the original backing tracks?
Things never got bitchy, says Fleetwood. Sure, the atmosphere was
confused to say the least but it wasnt destructive. It may be difficult for
someone outside of the group to understand what Im saying, but were a
bunch of people before were a bunch of musicians. What happened was
that all five of us were going through exactly the same problem at the very
same time. Only in Fleetwood Mac could that ever happen.
So there we all were, trying to put down the basic backing tracks and
all feeling so desperately unhappy with life. But somehow we created
a mutual bond. We could all relate to each others desperation. Despite
ourselves, we didnt lose contact. It wasnt as though there wasnt anyone
else we could turn to. Strange as it might sound, we had one another so
we went through shit to get to the point where we could still live and
communicate as friends.
I dont think anyone ever turned round and said, I dont need this, Im
splitting. We all understood how we all felt because we were all involved
in each others lives.
Sure we laugh at it now we even make
jokes, a recent cover of Rolling Stone sports
an Annie Leibovitz shot of all five in one bed:
Christine cuddling Lindsey, Mick with his arm
around Stevie and John off in a corner reading.
But believe me, it wasnt funny at the time.
The thing that happened between Lindsey
and Stevie and Christine and John wasnt that
they suddenly took a dislike to one another; it
was just that they realised they could no longer
live together, and so there was no malice when
they separated. For instance, the other evening
John and I went round to Christines place to
have a drink with her and her boyfriend. So, if
anything, the weird circumstances
in which we decided to record
Rumours helped to make that
much stronger than before.
From start to finish it took one
year to complete Rumours. Wed
recorded the backing tracks in nine
anxious weeks, but the emotions
that wed originally put down on
the tape in Sausalito were so strong
that we didnt want to be immature
and insensitive towards those
feelings. Thats why we took such
care in the dubbing and the mixing.
We just went though our
collective traumas head-on and it
was then that we all revealed our
own true colours. In the past, both
John and I have had to handle
some really weird situations
Peter Green Jeremy Spencer,
but as far as Lindsey and Stevie
were concerned, they didnt go
like lambs to the slaughter, they
just underwent a crash-course
in maturity.
I wonder what these guys do for
an encore? Roy Carr
Sure, the
atmosphere
was confused,
but it wasnt
destructive
1977
a p r i l J U NE
The descendant of every

enigma from Monroe to
Piaf to ronnie spector:
debbie Harry with blondie
at Hammersmith, 1977
Pop-pulp vs prayers
nme JUn 4 nYC cool crosses the pond as Blondie support television.
gus stewart / getty
londies debbie Harry frantically

shimmies and shakes across the
stage limelight, furiously rattling
a pair of shiny maracas, and I sigh sadly,
wishing they were mine.
You look good in black fashion notes
are an off-the-creamy-shoulder mini-dress,
night-nurse tights and stiletto leather ankle
boots from which project the silk-clad
sparrow legs of the type of non-stop-dancing
NOO Yawk City bud that Tom Wolfe
eulogised in the Peppermint Lounge
Revisited section of his Kandy-Kolored
Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby.
The Worlds Greatest Mouth cries SURFS
UP! at the start of Blondies celebration of
summer, In The Sun, a number thats the
equal of the type of Golden Oldun that
Brian Wilson used to knock out on a lazy
afternoon with his piano parked in the sand
box. That songs typical a joyous, updated
air for the Patti Smith-inspired

Rip Her To Shreds.
Her Mop Top Muppet band
ploughed through Get Off Of
My Cloud on Saturday and Louie
Louie the next night for the intro to
the opening track on their Private
Stock album X Offender, a childlike paean to a perverted cop whos
into rubber boots, if you see what I
mean. Its the tragic story of a jailed
man and the girl who waits for him.
The notion that the band should
stick to small clubs and avoid the
larger halls is smashed as the
descendant of every enigma
from Monroe to Piaf to Ronnie
Spector gets bathed in blue lucid
spotlight for Look Good In Blue
done soft and sultry. West Side
Story derivative finger-snapping
choreography with Debbie torching
it into the footlights with Doomed
Lover angst.
For Iggy! Debbie cries and
they rip through their tribute to
The Pop, Detroit.
In The Flesh was only
performed on the Sunday, which
was bad strategy as they should
do it every night. Not a dry eye in
the house as Debbie purrs,
murmurs and sighs.
Its Blondies newest single and
it would mean a lot to me if you all
go out and buy it.
I bite my toenails in anguish as
Man Overboard is followed by
Rifle Range, with Debbie getting
gunned down and dying the Bogart,
flat on her back and twitching with
the throes of Sudden Death.
But when she bounces
back for I Didnt Have The
Nerve To Say No (Dear),
hammersmith odeon
a sort of porno God
london
Only Knows, I know
that everythings
gonna be alright.
The band leave the
maY 28 / 29
stage (sulky bastards,
her musicians; not the
type of boys Debbie should
mix with at all), then get
brought back for two numbers that display
real fire killer versions of Heatwave by
Martha Reeves & The Vandellas and The
Daytonas Little GTO.
The difference between Blondie and
Television was the difference between
hanging around an amusement arcade and
going to church. Honest, I think that the
Marquee Moon album is great. But the two
weekend gigs that Tom
Verlaines Television
played at Hammersmith
Odeon were like sitting
at the Maharishis feet or
gazing respectfully at the
Crown Jewels or watching
Pink Floyd if they had any
good songs.
Prove it, Tommy boy!
an irreverent prole bawled,
LIVE!
synthesis of Beach Boys, Spector, Orlons,

Daytonas, early Motown, the very crme de
la crme of the most timeless American
Graffiti pop-pulp that every poured out of
a cruising cars radio.
Its exhilarating Amerikana, and even
though the furthest West Ive ever been
is Ealing Broadway, I could almost taste the
back-seat-drive-in love and the ketchupsoaked cheeseburgers sizzling on an
open grill
Debbie looks like a
peroxided 16-year-old
ponytailed cheerleader
who got a job turning tricks
on Times Square during the
vacation. The angelic
countenance, absorbed in
her speeding-sideways
dance steps, turns vicious
as her painted nails claw the
television played
with the technical
perfection of a
sophisticated
computer
LIVE!
maY 24
Michael Jackson (left)

eclipses brothers Marlon
(centre) and Jackie at
Hammersmith, 1977
Pirouettes vs outsider shtick

nme JUn 4 the Jacksons
mm maY 7 tom Waits
t has been nearly five years since The

Jacksons last visit to Britain, and Michael
Jackson, 13 then, is 18 now. Not that that has
diminished his appeal one jot and indeed the
fact that these boys have come up with no UK
material in that period doesnt seem to matter
either. They were still able not only to pack out
the Hammersmith Odeon, but also to fill it with
fanatical followers.
There had been some changes since last time.
Jermaine, torn between family loyalties, opted to
remain at Motown, and has been replaced by the
largely anonymous Gerald Brown. Also, the
bands own instrumentation guitar, drums, keys
was now supplemented by a small orchestra, no
doubt made necessary by the nature of the new
material on Epic. Also, there was Randy, now 14,
pounding on the bongos like a veteran.
The main change, though, was probably the
material. It would now be invidious to suggest
that The Jacksons are simply offering teenybop
fare when they are vying with The OJays for the
very best that Gamble-Huff have to offer (not that
thats currently that good).
The other important development was that this
was virtually the Michael Jackson Show. Big
brothers Tito, Marlon and Jackie were mostly
relegated to the roles of back-up singers. This
didnt particularly disappoint since Michaels
voice has not changed much, and in any case he
now has sufficient stage presence to control
proceedings himself. Too much, it could be
argued. His series of neatly executed pirouettes
tantalised and teased the throng at the front of
the stalls, and it was no surprise that for the
second half of the show Michael was enveloped
by kamikaze female fans storming the stage.
The material was reasonably predictable
mostly from the last album, with the obligatory
medleys of former glories (their Tamla hits) as
was the assurance with which it was delivered.
Although I dont rate the Epic material too
highly, its obvious that Gamble-Huff have
helped arrest the Jacksons decline. And
once the boys have found some material
thats actually hot, then things might begin
to get very interesting indeed. Meanwhile,
dont leave it so long next time. Bob Woffinden
he obvious question about Tom Waits

is he, or is he not, a phoney? was never
quite resolved for me at Londons Sound
Circus on Sunday. The difficulty stems from his
self-made image, which seems so much second
nature its become his whole artistic stance.
Waits is the coolest cat on the block; in his beat
clothes, and with his radical slur of a voice, he
contrives both to look and sound as though he
were a stew-bum halfway into a meths trip.
Its a romantic idealisation of the outsider
that he reinforces not just by stage tricks, like
the cigarette that droops perpetually about his
person, but even by the use of a laconic threepiece group, whose finger-snapping rhythms
supported his piano playing and formed the
background to his monologues, his
metropolitan doubletalk, as he calls them.
Its all patently shtick, but its a great image, a
hip, existentialist image that appeals to a certain
audiences sense of sophistication and implies
their familiarity with the artistic San Francisco
scene of the 50s from which Waits draws some
inspiration. Yet despite the amusement to be had
from Waits absurdist vision of himself and his
many jokes It was as cold as a Jewish-American
princess on her honeymoon, he quipped at one
point the mannerisms not only begin to pall, but
they obscure a very real songwriting ability.
He has a good feel for melody and for lyrics,
many of which explore with genuine force his
self-portrait of the restless loner, bumming the
bars and pool halls. Its a quality he evoked in
San Diego Serenade, a wistful song, performed
alone and at the piano, which revealed his
essential sentimentality. Too many other songs,
however, were marred for me by straining to hear
him strain, though Im prepared to believe that
his voice really is that cracked and
sodden. The real question,
which requires a qualified
soUnd CirCUs
yes, should be: Is he good?
london
But to arrive at this
conclusion one would
do better to consult his
records, where the pose
can be put into truer
maY 1
perspective. Michael Watts
LIVE!
terry lott / getty
and I assumed he was talking

about the album track of the
same name. But when the song
had come and gone and he
continued shouting, Prove it,
Tommy boy! I realised he was
challenging Verlaine to live up to
the hyperbole of his build-up.
On the album, Verlaines
frighteningly intense music carries
some warmth, passion and SOUL.
There was a paucity of all those
qualities during these two gigs. It was
cold, heartless and joyless, and they
played with the technical perfection
of a sophisticated computer. When
they started with the first tracks
on the album, See No Evil and
Venus, I thought they were gonna
run straight through the album
because they didnt have the energy
to change the tracklisting around.
When a man as talented as Verlaine
can write something like Venus,
perhaps the finest love song since
Dylans Love Minus Zero, theres
just no excuse for playing with as
much sexuality, love or affection
as a necrophiliac.
Between numbers, Verlaine
savours the role of distant, cool,
patronising Star. Unsmiling,
unmoving throughout, he introduces
each song in a short slur of words, all
indistinguishable except for the title.
Meanwhile, everybodys sitting
round watching Television. It made
me think that the Television/Blondie
tour and the Ramones/Talking Heads
tour should swap support acts for
everyones benefit.
While not in the same league as
songs on the album like Friction or
Prove It, the old Ork single Little
Johnny Jewel got the best reception
simply because its certainly the most
esoteric number the band do.
Marquee Moon alone comes
across as visually impressive as it is
on vinyl, with guitarist Richard Lloyd
and Verlaine cutting jagged, incisive
structures through the air as TVs
transparent axe reflected beams
of coloured light that looked like
the music FELT.
On that occasion the music
touched me inside. The rest of the
time it was how I imagine a Grateful
Dead concert to be.
Knockin On Heavens Door
is dire, and its not until the encore
of Satisfaction that the audience
stand up from their chairs and
Idiot Dance.
WALLY! somebody has the
amusing and appropriate audacity
to bellow, and then the bouncers
start playing Gestapo Warriors and
it aint funny.
As the fishbloods leave the stage
I reflect that Television may have 10
times the talent of Blondie, but they
aint half as much fun. I think Im in
love. Tony Parsons
hammersmith odeon
london
1977
a p r i l J U NE
What the
hell you
cant please
everybody
NME APRIL 30
For NMEs tape recorder,

MUDDY WATERS provides
a generous interview.
From Charley Patton to
Elvis and the Rolling
Stones, Muddy tells an
extraordinary story
of social and musical
change. A black mans
music, says Muddy,
is not a crime to bring
in the house.
JOE STEVENS
HE KIND OF BLUES I play theres no

money in it. You makes a good livin when
you gets established like I did, but you dont
reach that kind of overnight-million-dollar
thing, man no way.
If you play nuthin but blues, its hard to
get big off of it. It takes years and years and years, and still kids come in
and go, Who he?
The kid with the cancelled eyes and the bombsite face has his eye
on my bottle of beer. As we stand at the edge of the club watching
Johnny Winter leading Muddy Waters band through the first half
of the show, he sees I have my eye on his pipe. We come to a wordless
agreement and trade implements. As we swap back I ask him if Muddy
Waters has been on yet.
He turns those dented-hubcap orbs on me.
Muddy who?
In the end, I have to ask four people before I finally find one who says,
No, man, its just been Johnny and the band on so far.
Once thats been established and Im assured that I havent dragged
Joe Stevens, a lady from CBS Records, her two kid brothers and a
driver all the way from New York City to Willimantic, Connecticut,
on a mere wild blues chase, its possible to relax and take stock of the
surroundings and the music.
Were in a sprawling, low-ceilinged wooden building called the
Shaboo Inn. Kids from the neighbouring three or four states all
converge there it seems like every under-age drunken driver within
a hundred miles is there; damage cases lurching around afterwards
slurring, Hey, whut city we in, man?, the lot.
Its crowded, smoky, sweatbox hot despite the noisy airconditioning
and there are two small exits upfront and backstage which means
that if a fire started in there the audience and bands would have to be
sent home in canvas bags and the whole process would take maybe
10 or 15 minutes Imagine all those blurred-round-the-edges
I wanted the
world to know a lot
about me: Muddy
Waters in 1977
1977
a p r i l J U NE
teenage casualties stomping each other to get at

the exits. Jesus, what a mess
As this horrific fantasy subsides, focus in, if you
will, on the band.
Reading from left to right, the first man we come
to is Pinetop Perkins, born at Belzoni, Mississippi,
in 1913. Hes played piano for Muddy since the
death of Otis Spann, Muddys half-brother and the
finest blues pianist of his time, in 1970.
Next to him behind the drums is Willie Big Eyes
Smith formerly known as Little Willie Smith
born 1936 in Helena, Arkansas, a former
harmonica player who switched to drums in
the late 50s because the blues was in one of its
periodic doldrums and harps went out. So
I had to look for other ways to keep a job and I
learned drums. Hes played with Muddy since
the early 60s, thrashing his kit with perfect
power and control.
Next up is Bob Margolin, a young bearded
white guitarist whos played rhythm for Muddy
for three or four years. He keeps his Stratocaster
turned well down and he looks unbelievably
nervous, even after all this time. His playing is
oddly hesitant, as if hes perpetually waiting for
cues from the older men around him like
James Cotton on harp.
Cotton, born in Tunica, Mississippi, in 1935, is one of the guest
stars on this tour. Taught by Sonny Boy Williamson II and Muddys
harmonica player for 12 years, hes led his own band for some time,
and its from Cottons band that Muddys borrowed bassist Charles
Calmese, the youngest man on the stage, snake-eyed and agile, pumping
out time-honoured lines embellished with a few contemporary fillips on
a fretless Fender.
Up front taking care of business in the absence of The Man is a man who
could be 19 or 90, a long thin streak of Texas white lightning perched on
a high stool with a Gibson Firebird in his lap, clad in black velvet and a
floppy hat of the same fabric, milky hair pushed back and falling to his
shoulders, a face so white that it practically vanishes when he leans into
the lights born in 1944 in Leland, Mississippi, Mr Johnny Winter.
Shorn of his rock-star accoutrements and 2,000-watt monoliths,
Winters put himself back into the College Of Musical Knowledge for
a postgraduate PhD course in the blues from the man who personally
tutored the likes of Little Walter, Jimmy Rogers, James Cotton, Junior
Wells, Buddy Guy, Mike Bloomfield and Paul Butterfield in the intricacies
of their craft, and whose home-study course has benefited among
others Mick Jagger, Keith Richard, Eric Clapton, Brian Jones, Peter
Green, Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, Bo Diddley, Eric Burdon, John Mayall,
Stevie Winwood, Jack Bruce, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, Jimi Hendrix,
The Band, Rory Gallagher, the Feelgoods, Paul Rodgers, Lew Lewis,
Rod Stewart lets just say that Muddys students have, over the years,
done him proud.
Like just about every Southern kid, Winter had grown up hearing the
seminal rock and country records over the radio and, for him, Muddy
was always The Man.
Hed simultaneously paid off a massive musical debt and set himself up
for the treat of a lifetime by getting Muddy signed up to Blue Sky records
his manager Steve Pauls label and producing/kibitzing/guitaring
Hard Again, the album which
inaugurated Muddys stay with
the company by recapturing the
colossal vitality and crispness
of Muddys 50s recordings.
And now hes up front leading
a stellar lineup of three
generations of Chicago bluesmen,
warming up the crowd for The
Man. Hes shouting
John Lee Hookers Serve You Right To Suffer into

the mic and playing the sweetest, sharpest, saltiest
blues guitar you can imagine, expanding the
content of the genre without ever breaking faith
with its form.
The audience is grooving on it, but they seem a bit
puzzled as to why Johnny isnt wearing his satins
and jewellery and playing the ferocious deathbefore-dishonour power-chord rocknroll thats
been his major stock-in-trade in the 70s.
A kid who yells for RocknRoll Hoochie Koo
gets a poised Fuck ya! gouged into his face,
followed by a galloping, hell-for-leather swordcane version of Elmore James Robert Johnsonderived Dust My Broom.
As he kickstarts his solo, his left hand sneaks
to his volume control and hes up off the stool
and dancing with it now, his face dreamily and
serenely abstracted as he switches his butt
across the stage. He doesnt do guitar moves;
in fact, its like hes dancing to the music and hes
forgotten that hes got a guitar in his hands and
that hes playing, or indeed that he doesnt
realise that hes off his stool.
He looked like a skeleton dancing in
moonlight, answering some unearthly
summons. On this up, he ends the set and calls a 15-minute break before
The Main Event and even though sound commercial reasoning dictates
whose name is highest and biggest on the posters, theres no question as
to whose show it is.
When things reassemble, Perkins, Smith, Margolin, Calmese and
Cotton essay an instrumental. Cotton wails his brains out with a
succession of devastating solos, but the stiffness and nervousness of
Margolins playing keeps things fairly earthbound until Winter re-enters,
plugs in and starts striking sparks off his guitar. The other musicians ignite
and things are burning pretty good when Cotton brings on Muddy Waters.
Charley
Patton was
such a good
clown with
the guitar
UDDY WATERS WAS born on April 4, 1915, in Rolling Fork,

Mississippi; the second son of farmer Ollie Morganfield, who
named him McKinley. In 1918 his mother died, and young
McKinley Morganfield was sent to live with his grandmother in
Clarksdale, some 100 miles away.
I was raised in the country, and out there they didnt have no concrete,
ya know just muddy country roads, and people used to clean their feet
off on our front porch. Id be playin around crawlin in the mud, probably
eatin it and my grandmother started callin me her little muddy baby.
I started to play the harp when I was seven. At nine I was really tryin to
play. At 13 I thought I was good. The kids I used to sing to would call out,
Hey, Muddy Waters, play us a piece.
I didnt like that Muddy Water thing, ya know I didnt mind my
grandmother calling me Muddy, but that whole Muddy Waters thing
I didnt like, it just growed on me.
In the latter part of his teens, McKinley Morganfield saw the great Delta
bluesman Charley Patton. Patton was nearly 30 years Muddys senior and
impressed him enormously as he had also impressed a 21-year-old
Arkansawan named Chester Burnett, himself later to become a blues
legend as Howlin Wolf.
I saw Charley Patton in my younger life days him and Son House, a lot
of the older guys. What got to me about Charley Patton was that he was
such a good clown man with the guitar. Pattin it and beatin on it and
puttin it behind his neck and turnin it over I loved that, but I loved Son
House because he used the bottleneck so beautiful. He was one of the
best Mississippi things of the time.
I think me myself and Robert Johnson got the most out of Son House.
Of course Robert he come up so fast, but I had to stay with the Son House
single-string kind of thing.
Muddy had formed a duo with a friend of his, a guitarist named Scott
Bohannon. Within a year, though, Muddy had traded in his harps for
a guitar, and by the time he was 17 he was playing bottleneck leads to
Bohannons rhythm. Hed already known for a long time that he was
going to be a professional musician for life.
I left the home with that when I was a little kid, and ever since
I can remember, this is what I wanted to be. Something outstanding.
If I couldnt make it in music, Id be a big preacher, a great ball player.

I didnt want to grow up with no one knowin me but the neighbourhood
people. I wanted the world to know a lot about me. I thank my God I got
it through
Throughout his late teens and his twenties, Muddy made his living in
much the same way as many other unskilled and semi-educated young
Southern blacks: he went to work on neighbouring cotton plantations,
but he did better than most thanks to his musical abilities. A nights music
earned him $2.50, as opposed to the $3.75 paid for five days work.
Plus a small whisky still out in the bushes.
Son House, the man from whom he learned the finer points of
bottleneck guitar and a certain amount of his early repertoire, was a
brilliant guitarist who remained in obscurity until tracked down and
recorded in 1966. Son House taught Muddy some of the songs and the
essentials of the style of Robert Johnson, undoubtedly the finest
country-blues singer of all.
To say that Robert Johnson was a mystery and an enigma is to
understate. No one seems to know where he was born or when, although
he mustve been around Muddys age. Nobody knows what he looked like
(though he is frequently described as being small and dark), because
there are no known photographs of him.
He was a shy young kid who desperately wanted to emulate the older
bluesmen and seemed patently unable to do so until he vanished for
about six months and then came back
the best and most exciting singer/
guitarist and composer that anyone
had ever heard.
Between 1936 and 1938 he recorded
29 sides for Vocation Records all of
which are now available on a pair of
indispensable CBS albums entitled
Robert Johnson, King Of The Delta
Blues Singers (Vols I & II) a blues
more supple, driving and achingly
immediate than anything existing at
the time.
The blues of Robert Johnson
represent the absolute artistic peak
of the pre-war rural blues: his guitar
playing foreshadowed the future of
the music, with funky bass-string riffing, vibrant, biting slide

counterpoints and powerful, choppy chording that formed the basis of
the way the electric blues bands black and white of the future would
balance off lead, rhythm and bass guitars.
He was solidly in the tradition of the Mississippi Delta bluesmen whod
preceded him, but like his spiritual descendants Charlie Parker and Jimi
Hendrix, he was just that much further out.
It was his songs, and the way he sang them, that mattered the most,
though. Hearing Robert Johnson really drives home why religious folks
called the blues devil music and why many musicians from religious
backgrounds found the decision to play blues an almost Faustian choice.
Johnson opens a window into an almost apocalyptic world in his blues,
a world where he and the devil walk side by side (Early this morning when
you knocked upon my door/I said, Hello Satan, I do believe its time to go),
where the blues walks like a man and pours down like hell (Hell Hound
On My Trail), where hes out late at night after redneck curfew
(Crossroads), and even when the devil/blues makes him impotent
(Phonograph Blues, Stones In My Passway).
He sings in a voice that sounds like bare trees clutching hopelessly at
a grey sky, as if he was running down the road trying not to look at them.
Robert Johnson was serving life without parole on Desolation Row before
Bob Dylan was even born.
The unnerving suddenness with which hed acquired his powers and
the subject matter of his songs led
many to venture the opinion that
Johnson had, indeed, made a Faustian
pact with the devil. He died in 1938
no one quite knows how.
Some say he was stabbed, some
poisoned, but everybody agrees that
it was in a fight over a girl.
The reason for the mystery is that
he was an itinerant musician in
a strange town, with none of his
friends with him either to prevent
or to record the manner of his death.
And besides, who cares what happens
to a vagrant black in some small
Southern town where nobody
knows him?
JOE STEVENS
Waters talking with

NMEs Charles
Shaar Murray at his
home in Chicago
1977
a p r i l J U NE
Muddy Waters knew Johnson principally from his records and from
what Son House had taught him, but Johnson influenced him enormously.
I didnt know Robert well at all, because I dont remember meeting
him. He was in a little town called Fryes Point, and he was playing on the
corner there. People were crowdin round him, and I stopped and peeked
over. I got back into the car and left, because he was a dangerous man
and he really was using the git-tar, man. I crawled away and pulled out,
because it was too heavy for me
The echoes of Robert Johnson in Muddys first recordings were
overwhelming. Folklorist Alan Lomax recorded him for the Library Of
Congress in 1941 and again in 1942, both solo and as a member of the Sons
Sims Four, a group he played with occasionally. In his mid-twenties at the
time, his voice is considerably lighter and younger than the classic Muddy
Waters voice of his 50s recordings, and the phrasing and intonation are
unmistakably derived from Johnson, as is the guitar style.
Muddys playing and singing carried a solidity and weight that
Johnsons perhaps lacked, but similarly the realms of metaphysical terror
which were Johnsons prowling grounds were closed to Muddy perhaps
thankfully, because Muddy Waters is still with us in the flesh, whereas
Johnsons presence is ghostly beyond belief.
No mere Johnson imitator was Muddy, though, not even then. His sheer
warmth, strength and authority completely polarised and redefined
even the most obviously Johnson-derived pieces, and he displays
thrilling, tantalising hints of the power that he would unleash on his
next foray into recording.
He was absolutely determined that he would record again and this
time see the records released and paid for. (The Library Of Congress,
which treats folk musicians as wildlife specimens rather than artists,
never paid Muddy for the recordings until a quarter of a century later,
when they were finally released by Testament Records as Down On
Stovalls Plantation).
HE CENTRE of blues recording was Chicago, which then
as now boasted a substantial black population. The industry
was undergoing a hiatus at
the time, since due to a combination
of wartime raw-materials shortages
and a massive union dispute,
there were no recordings made
for several years.
Muddy arrived in Chicago in 1943
the year after his final session with
Lomax and went to stay with an
uncle of his. He got a job in a paper
factory, but he soon found himself
making more money playing guitar
and singing at parties and bars. In
1944 he found that he wasnt loud
Michael Ochs archives/GeTTY
enough and got himself

his first electric guitar.
It wasnt no namebrand electric guitar, but
it was a built-in electric
git-tar, no pick-up just
stuck on. It gave me so
much trouble that thats
probably why I forgot the
name; every time I looked
round I had to have it fixed.
Finally it got stoled from
me in one of them little
neighbourhood clubs, and
the next one I got me was a
Gretsch, and thats the one
I used on all my early hits.
January 1967, Tel Mar
Studios, Chicago: Chess
In 1946, pianist Albert
Records co-founder
Luandrew better known
Leonard Chess (left)
supervises as (lr) Muddy
as Sunnyland Slim
Waters, Little Walter
needed a guitarist for
and Bo Diddley record
the album Super Blues
a session he was cutting
for Aristocrat Records,
a small label run as a
sideline by Leonard and
Phil Chess (proprietors of a bar called the Macambo) and a gentleman
named Sammy Goldberg.
Slim knew Muddy from various jams and gigs, and so he brought him
along to Goldberg and the Chess brothers, and they and bassist Ernest
Big Crawford cut four sides. Muddy and Slim each took two lead vocals,
and therefore got a single apiece out of it.
On all four of the selections, Slims piano is the predominant
instrument after all, he was the veteran and Muddy the novice but
the guitar is taut and inventive. Playing, surprisingly enough, without
a slide, Muddy reveals himself as a lead guitarist whod not only refined
his existing tricks in the preceding five years, but had also learned an
awful lot of new ones. His voice had developed considerably more power
and control, and the Johnson influences had been almost fully absorbed
and transcended.
After one single as a sideman, one as a featured artist and a third where
he and Slim shared billing, he was ready to step out on his own. In 1948,
Sunnyland Slim quit Aristocrat. Muddy, however, was already far more
than just Sunnyland Slims protg, a fact which he proved with
devastating success when, accompanied only by Big Crawford, he cut
a version of a song called I Bes Troubled, which hed first cut for Alan
Lomax back in Mississippi in 1942.
This time it was called I Cant Be Satisfied. By blues standards, it was
a smash hit around Chicago and in the South. Almost certainly, it was
one of the records that, way over in Memphis, Tennessee, a 13-year-old
po white boy named Elvis Aaron Presley must have listened to on the
black radio station. Big Crawfords pumping, punching basslines presage
those which Bill Black was to play six years later when Presley cut his
interpretation of Arthur Big Boy Crudups Thats All Right Mama,
an interpretation which owes much to the pacing and phrasing of
Muddys record.
The record had two major effects. The first was to persuade the Chess
brothers that the harsh, electrified Delta blues was the sound. They then
dropped the cocktail pop and jazz that theyd been recording and quickly
established themselves as a pre-eminent boss blues label. The second
was to make Muddy Waters the
undisputed boss of Chicago blues.
He consolidated his success with
a series of harder, heavier, more
passionate and more electric hits,
and began to assemble, member by
member, the toughest and most
exciting band in town. Muddy Waters
Blues Band was to become not only the
best and most influential band in
Chicago, but what was, for all practical
purposes, the first electric rock band.
His first ally was Jimmy Rogers
(sometimes known as Chicago Jimmy
MUDDY WATERS
Rogers to distinguish him from the white country singer Jimmie

Rodgers), a fine guitarist and singer who, like many of Muddys sidemen,
cut solo recordings at Muddys sessions with the leader backing them up.
He was playing harp, I was playing git-tar that was when I got my gittar stoled. Then he switched over we went with a guy called Blue Smitty.
He made a coupla records for Chess, but I dont know if youd remember
him he played a hell of a good guitar. Me and him played guitar, and
Jimmy Rogers played harp: three of us. This lasted almost a year, and then
Blue Smitty left us and Jimmy got a job, and this left me by myself.
I got a guy named Baby Face Leroy [Foster]. He played drums and
guitar, but he and I was playing git-tars together. Then Little Walter came
to play with Baby Face Leroy, and Jimmy was hangin round. He was a
good musician, and I wanted to cut him in with us and make four. So I put
Leroy on the drums, Jimmy on the guitar and Little Walter on the harp.
Marion Little Walter Jacobs was born in Marksville, Lousiana, in
either 1930 or 1931. He played both harmonica and guitar when, barely
20, he joined up with Muddys band. He was a
more than fair guitarist as his performances
on some of Muddys records amply testify but
his true turf was mouth harp.
Little Walter is the man against whom all other
blues harpists must be measured. Rank him as
of equal importance and influence on his
instrument and in his field as Robert Johnson,
Charlie Parker and Jimi Hendrix were in theirs.
Before I had him as a harp player he was used
to playing on his own. He didnt have very good
time, but me and Jimmy teached him that. Plus
we taught him how to settle down. He was wild,
he had to play fast! He was always a jump boy,
had that up-n-go power. Lotta energy!
He could cool down and play a slow
blues, but when he go for himself he play
sumpn uptempo.
Walter was a renowned hellraiser, and
even after his work with Muddy and his solo
records both while he was in the band and
after had made him as big a star as Muddy
for a while, his wildness and taste for the
booze seriously damaged his career.
He was a great guy. He had kind of a bad
temper, but he was a great guy, man and if
he wanted to love you, he loved you. A lot of
peoples give him the wrong thing, cause he
just didnt want to take no foolishness off
nobody. A lot of people dont want to take no
jive from peoples, and he was that type.
But otherwise, man, whatever he did, he
did it to himself. He didnt go sticking up
nobody or none of that jive, but he was a fast
boy. People said he drank, but what the hell,
everybody drinks. I drink too.
I think he was one of the swellest guys
that was ever in the business. And he did
like me. Awwwwww man, he was another
Robert Johnson. Its hard to find them kinds
of peoples.
Charlie Parker, Jimi Hendrix, Billie Holiday, John Coltrane
Yeah man those guys, you dont run into them too often. They born
with that. Walter was born with what he had, and man, you couldnt take
it from him. He could do it.
His mind was so fast, he could think twice to your once; thats how he
learned to harp so good. Kids are still trying to play like him, but they not
yet up to the point
In 1950, the Chess brothers separated themselves from Sammy
Goldberg and Aristocrat in order to set up a new operation: Chess
Records. They leased a few masters from the South among them the
records Sam Phillips at Sun made with Howlin Wolf before he too moved
to Chicago but mostly they found all the blues they could handle right
there in Chicago.
The Muddy Waters Blues Band ruled the roost, notching up best-sellers
not only with Muddys own records but with solo records from Jimmy
Rogers and Little Walter. Muddy and the band also backed up other
artists, notably Sonny Boy Williamson. In contrast to the rockabilly

records that Southern whites were to make in a few years time in which
only the lead guitar and the echo chambers sounded electric the Waters
band was making an almost totally electric music.
Since its music was an extension of country blues, they used a small
number of instruments heavily amplified for maximum cut-and-thrust
power, in direct contrast to the big bands which used a large number of
acoustic instruments in which maybe only the singer and the guitarists
used electricity to cut through the horns.
The drummers thrashed away mercilessly to compete with the
cranked-up guitar amps used by Waters and Rogers (Rogers alternated
bass and lead parts against Muddys rhythm and slide, since in those
pre-electric-bass days, bass was really only practical in the studio).
Walters harp was closely miked and gave him a volume, sustain and
richness of tone that enabled him to fill the air with the huge chording
of a four-piece horn section or else soar like a single alto sax, like a slide
guitar or like a voice.
And over the top rode Muddy triumphant,
slashing the air into thin slices with bare-wire
slide and declaiming his witty, observant and
poignant songs with magisterial dignity and
savage aplomb.
Rocknroll proper was still two or three years
away, but boisterous, rampaging, remorseless
electric street music was developing by leaps
and bounds in Chicago. The musics still with
us, but sadly, Little Walter isnt. He suffered
a massive concussion in a back-alley brawl
outside a Chicago club where hed worked one
night in 1967. He complained of a headache,
took a couple of aspirins, went to sleep and
never woke up.
I was here when rocknroll first came out
with Chuck Berry and all of them. I sent him
to Chess, told him to tell Leonard Chess that
it was me sent him over there. He recorded
with the Chicago people: Otis Spann, the
drummer Odie Payne, I believe
Muddy has always been noted for his
willingness to advance other peoples
careers. He not only let Rogers and Little
Walter record on his time, but he played on
their records, gave them solo spots on his
gigs and gave them the benefits of all his
experience, musical and otherwise. Many
of his former sidemen who now lead their
own bands have benefitted from both his
advice and his object lessons on the tricky
art of leading a band.
Was a lot of changes made when we was
Ronnie Wood joins
goin through the thing I had a lot of mens
Waters backstage
in the band. Thats why I feels that I did a lot
after the latters
show at the Roxy in
more for blues players than anybody else
Los Angeles, 1977
I know ever lived. I taught a lot of people how
to do it, I took em into my band and I made
good blues stars out of em
The Rolling
Stones created
a whole wide
open space for
the music
oRE THAN ANy other single event, it was Muddys visit to

England in 1958 that laid the first foundation stone for the
Great British R&B boom of the early 60s.
Earthshakingly loud by the standards of the time (even Otis Spanns
piano was amplified), at least one major British jazz critic of the time
was so freaked out by the volume of the Waters band (he was more
accustomed to the acoustic folk blues of Big Bill Broonzy and Brownie
McGhee) that he reviewed the show from the toilet.
It was that visit that inspired Alexis Korner and Cyril Davies to form
Blues Incorporated and provide the environment that produced the
Rolling Stones, The Yardbirds, Manfred Mann, The Pretty Things and the
rest of the Crawdaddy/Marquee school of young white Britblues bands.
It was in that same year that Muddy received the first real answering
shout from across the colour line. It was when Elvis Presley made a
picture with a song had that Hoochie Coochie Man beat ba da da da
dum and I thought, I better watch out. I believe whiteys pickin up
1977
a p r i l J U NE
on things that Im doin. The song in question was Trouble from the
movie King Creole. It was probably Presleys last fling as a hardcore
rocknroller, and also the last fling of hardcore rocknroll for a few years.
When the bottom dropped out of hard rock to coincide with Presleys
induction into the army, the blues market also contracted sharply.
Muddys coup was to take his band then consisting of Pat Hare (gtr),
James Cotton (harp), Otis Spann (pno), Andrew Stephens (bass) and
Francis Clay (drums) to the Newport Jazz Festival.
From his triumphant performance there, slightly subdued though it
was after his experience at the hands of the British jazz critics, came the
superb Muddy Waters At Newport album, which introduced him to white
jazz fans. He also recorded the acoustic Muddy Waters, Folk Singer album
and the Broonzy tribute Muddy Sings Big Bill, both of which gained him
a foothold with white folk fans.
But nevertheless, his black public was being eroded by the smoother,
jazzier urban blues of BB King and Albert King, and by the gospelinfluenced pop-soul coming out of Motown in Detroit and Stax in
Memphis. Both these forms seemed classier to the burgeoning black
middle class, who were beginning to find the music of men like Muddy
and Howlin Wolf a little too rough and dirty.
Im dead outta Mississippi, the country. I play cotton-patch music,
cornfield, fishfry. BB and Albert are a different style; a higher class of
peopled see them, more middle-class people in those days, anyway.
Now you talkin direct to black, because white people, if they like you,
they dont give a damn. I have doctors and everything who come around:
doctors, lawyers, maybe even a judge slip in there sometime.
But in those days some clubs would rather have BB in there than me,
because a more white-collar guy comes in to see him. Theyd want to be
sophisticated, theyd say they dont dig the deep blues like me and Wolf
were playin John Lee Hooker, maybe Lightnin Hopkins.
What the hell, you cant please everybody.
What do I care? back when I was playin for only black I always had my
house full, you couldnt even get in. I didnt need no guy in the necktie,
yknow whmean?
In 1964, Muddy was to begin to reap the harvest of the seeds hed
planted over in England back in 1958. Then all at once there was the
Rollin Stones. When they did it, they created a whole wide open space for
the music. They said who did it first and how they came by knowin it.
They told the truth about it, and that really put a shot in my arm with the
whites. I tip my hat to em.
They took a lot of what I was doin, but who care? The Rolling
Stones it took the people from England to hip my people my white
people to what they had in their own backyard. That sounds funny, but
its the truth.
It was the Beatles and the Rolling Stones: The Beatles did a lot of Chuck
Berry; the Rolling Stones did some of my stuff. Thats what it took to wake
up the people in my own country, in my own state where I was born, that
a black mans music is not a crime to bring in the house.
There was a time when a kid couldnt bring that music into a fatherand-mothers house. Dont bring that nigger music in here. Thats right!
Those kids didnt give a damn what your colour is; they just want to
hear the records. Then the college kids started comin to see me in
places where I was afraid for em even to be there, maybe 12 or 14 of them
a night. I said, Brother, I hope they can handle this, they dont know
where they at. I hope dont nothin happen to em. I hope everybody
leave em alone!
This was before Martin Luther Kings thing was happening, and
even then they was going to the black places They had more nerve
than I woulda had, man I mean, Im scared to go in some black places
myself now.
All the kids got
nerve these days; me,
I dont got no nerve. Id
just rather stay
peaceable, sit round
and watch my TV and
watch my kids grow
up. I been through
what they goin
through.
I been in some
baaad places in my
lifetime, but I went
through sound and safe. I didnt get nobody and didnt nobody get me. I
used to pack that thing here he slaps his hip pocket meaningfully
but you dont need that to live.
I dont think about that no more. I goes on havin a good time, man
I get in my car and go to the store Im havin a good time.
uddy Waters lives today in a small white wooden house

on a quiet street in a suburb of Chicago. Its only in the last
few years that he finally got enough money together to be
able to move out of Chicagos ghetto South Side, but when one
considers that Muddy Waters is a colossus of modern popular music
and that hes been working his butt off as a star performer and
recording artist for more than a quarter of a century, the smallness
and modesty of his home comes as something of a shock, despite the
expensive comfortable furniture, the electronic kitchen and the small
swimming pool in the yard.
Suddenly you realise that over those years Muddy hasnt ever seen
much of a financial reward for his work. He has little more than any hardworking man coming up to retirement age would have.
Over the years, hes made several stylistic experiments in the hope of
clicking with a wider market in the way that BB and Albert have done, but
his reluctance to move too far from the music that is his unquestioned
forte has resulted in some less-than-enthusiastic performances on some
less-than-worthy projects.
There was Brass And The Blues, a lightly swinging album backing him
up with jazz horns, and a pair of horrendous psychedelic albums,
Electric Mud and After The Rain (Chess thought they could make some
money off of those, and hell, I could use some money too), neither of
which made it either artistically or commercially.
A pair of team-up albums Super Blues with Bo Diddley and Little
Walter, and Super Super Blues Band with Bo and Howlin Wolf were
better and did better, and in 1969 he teamed up with Otis Spann, Paul
Butterfield, Mike Bloomfield, Duck Dunn and Buddy Miles for a superb
double album entitled appropriately enough Fathers And Sons.
(In the 70s, there was a London Sessions album with Rory Gallagher,
Stevie Winwood, Georgie Fame, Rick Grech and Mitch Mitchell.)
It seemed that that was it, except that the following year Muddy
was involved in an almost fatal car accident that laid him low for
many months. I came back good. I came back much bettern I ever
thought I would. The public didnt think Id ever come back as strong as
I am now.
Some thought Id never play again, because I couldnt even move my
fingers, man but I cant play no hour and a half or two hours no more,
man. My age is too old for that, I wouldnt even think about doin that.
Forty-five to 50 minutes, man, thats enough for a 62-year-old man.
I know the kids would love for me to stay out there more I could go on
for a few minutes longer, but Im trying to protect this one body. The kids
be hollerin for more all night, but if I did in a coupla weeks I be lyin on my
back in a bed somewhere.
Im trying to protect Muddy Waters. You dont get a 62-year-old man out
on no stage for no two hours, man you kiddin?
The band go out there first and then I do my 45, 50 minutes yeah,
cool but me go out there for an hour and a half? No way.
Last year, Muddy severed his connection with Chess Records, the
company which his success helped to build and with which his name had
been virtually synonymous for more than 25 years.
His departure coincided with the sale of Chess to the New Jersey-based
All Platinum label.
That be the second time they sold me, and I got tired of being sold to
everybody. The first time was when they sold me to a company called
GRT, and then they sold me to another record company, and I said, This
aint no good for me. I quit.
His manager, Scott Cameron, went to CBS records, who suggested that
he apply directly to Steve Pauls Blue Sky Records, who CBS distributed.
They said that this label was the direct one for me, and it was the one
that Johnny Winters was connected up with.
When they said Johnny Winter, this was it. I was just thrilled all over,
because when I met Johnny a few years ago in Texas, he didnt have the big
contract then and he wasnt a big rocknroll star. He was playin so much
of the old stuff all the old blues players like me n Jimmy Rogers and a lot
more, he was playin all of our stuff.
I figured that this was the greatest chance, man, of all my days, to get
with someone whos still got it, got that early-50s sound.
Using Muddys own piano, drums and

rhythm guitar plus James Cotton and his bass
player and Winter himself, they went ahead to
make the album that turned out to be the magnificent Hard Again.
We tried to keep it down in the 50s style, and I think this is one of the
best records Ive made in a long time with that really Muddy Waters
sound. I thought the Fathers And Sons was a heckuva good record, but I
think this is the top. I really do.
Were trying to get as close to the old sound as we can. We talked to
Jimmy Rogers, and hes ready, and maybe on the next one we use Walter
Horton also known as Shakey Horton and Big Walter, another of
the great 50s Chicago harps hes an old-timer, and he got some good
old sound in his body, plus Im sure ol Sunnyland Slim got a coupla sides
in him. Were just starting to think about it.
But most of all, Muddy yields to no one in his admiration for Johnny
Winter, the only one of the young blues guitarists who has mastered the
guitar styles which Waters and his contemporaries pioneered.
Most of the noted young white bluesmen of the 60s, like Clapton, Green
and Bloomfield, took BB King as their model, but Winter is the only one
who can capture Muddys own style. It takes a very careful listen to Hard
Again to discern that its Winter playing those Waters-styled guitar lines
and not the old master himself. Waters will hear no criticisms of Winter,
not even of his often rather strained blues singing.
He got a good voice on him for a white boy. How the hell you expect him
to be able to sing like me?
p on stage at the Shaboo, Willie Smith sets up that twofisted Chicago bump and grind, and Winter and Cotton
power the band into Hoochie Man.
Seated centre-stage, plucking casually at a businesslike brown
Telecaster, clad in short-sleeved sports shirt and slacks, Muddy
declaims the classic braggadocio of Willie Dixons Chicago anthem
with the casual authority of a man who knows that hes not going to be
called upon to prove what he sings but is still prepared to back it up every
inch of the way.
An all-encompassing boast of mystic, secular and sexual power, he
slams home the last chorus with as much zest and vitality and utter
conviction that he mustve put into his first performances half a century
ago back in Clarksdale, Mississippi:
Im here, everybody knows Im here/Im that hoochie coochie man/Let the
whole damn world know Im here.
And they do. Lord God, they do.
And the one black kid in the club tall, skinny, afroed is looking at
Muddy almost in shock, as if he cant believe that this old man who looks
like his grandfather is generating so much power.
When a drunken white boy behind him starts to babble and laugh
during the next song, he turns on him savagely: Shut yo white mouth,
motherfucker. This is the blues.
For Muddy, Winter must be the ideal sideman. Whenever the old master
needs to take a breath, Winter can take over the vocal for awhile, be it
Mannish Boy (Im A Man)or Muddys time-honoured hard-charging
finale number Got My Mojo Working. And yet he never risks distracting
the audience from Muddy, he stays on his stool until Muddy gets up and
then he gets up too to groove around with him.
The programme includes Muddy standards like Honey Bee and Im
A Howlin Wolf (an old song of Muddys that he now sings as a tribute to
his old friend, dead this past two years) plus Way Down In Florida from
the new album.
Its on this song that Muddy takes his only guitar solo of the night. The
kids at the Shaboo have by now heard guitar players pull out every trick in
the book, but the old man has a surprise or two left for em yet.
Every time I see Muddy, Im always taken aback at the sheer savagery of
his soloing. Ive never heard anybody this side of Jeff Beck generate so
much attack, so much venom with a guitar.
Listening to Muddy soloing is like getting into a razor fight in the middle
of a cloud of enraged napalm wasps out for blood and marrowbone jelly.
He just kills, and for all his astonishing speed and flair and invention,
Winter just cant hit as hard as Muddy.
And thats why we need old masters, cuz if younger folks could do what
they could do just as well then theyd be superfluous, long overdue for
rocknroll euthanasia. The reason that Muddy Waters is still a great and
not just an honoured ancestor, a museum grandaddy, is that no one can
do it like Muddy Waters.
And somehow I dont think anyone ever will. Charles Shaar Murray
JOE STEVENS
You dont get a

62-year-old man
out on no stage
for no two hours,
man You
kiddin?: Waters
at home in 1977
1977
a p r i l J U NE
Were the
black sheep
of the
new wave!
They burn fanzines and rate the Queen. What sort of punks are
THE JAM? Introducing an urgent new trio and their opinionated
leader, Paul Weller. Were not totally brainwashed yet, he
says. We will be in two years if we dont do something.
October 1977: The Jam (lr)

Bruce Foxton, Rick Buckler and
Paul Weller in San Franciscos
Chinatown district. Although
scheduled to play 16 dates over 12
days on their first US tour, Wellers
dad/manager John cancelled the
SF show because of an earthing
problem with the microphones
credit
NME MAY 7
y now only the staunchest reactionaries

amongst the nations rock people can be of the
opinion that the much-touted new wave, despite its
several less-than-endearing facets, isnt a good
thing. But just in case you still had any doubts, get
a load of The Jam.
youll doubt no more. For The Jam, while eulogising the nations
youth and, come to that, the nation itself with total commitment,
remain the scenes renegades. were the black sheep of the new
wave, says lynchpin Paul weller.
The Jam most certainly do not toe the Punk Party line. why,
theyve even been known to commit such sacrilegious acts as
burning on stage the Blank Generations mouthpiece, Sniffin Glue,
after said journal had complained of The Jams being laidback
and lacking direction not to mention spending too much
time tuning up onstage. Aggro!
with an image straight out of the Scene Club 1964 or some
similar mod Mecca, The Jam wouldnt know one end of a safetypin from another. Unlike the new-wave elite (Damned, Pistols,
Stranglers, Clash), they are, sartorially speaking, three very sharp
young men the proud owners (and I mean proud) of customised
mohair suits of the kind (say) The yardbirds wore when they were
an R&B band. And, unlike adherents of the new-wave dogma, The
Jam dont go for wholesale rejection of their predecessors.
one otis Redding is Paul wellers favourite singer. He even
attempted to sing like him at one point. Bassist Bruce Foxton
admits to copping the odd earful of Bad Company and Thin lizzy
once in a while. And, to top it all, drummer Rick Buckler has
owned up to possessing a couple of Genesis albums and liking
the band when he saw them at Guildford in 1973.
Such views demonstrate the groups open-mindedness and
individuality something which weller is keen to emphasise
1977
a p r i l J U NE
and also their honesty. (It hasnt been unknown for The Damneds
whirlwind drummer Rat Scabies to blag a Joni Mitchell album from her
record company but imagine him laying that on an interviewer. Or,
come to that, an interviewer printing it)
Moreover, The Jam have no time for playing the blank moron. Instead of
the amphetamine-blitzed expression of vacant aggression copyrighted
by new wavers, The Jam come on as sharp as their creases. Wasted they
are not though I cant believe theyre quite as clean living as they make
out. But perhaps most important of all, they are the best rocknroll band
Ive seen in many a year.
So sweeping a statement begs for qualifications, and not least among
these is Paul Wellers flawless rock-star credential. Each of The Jam has an
individual onstage persona strong enough to attain stardom in the nottoo-distant future, but Weller stands out like a king among princes.
hese past years, British rock has failed to come up with any
truly high-calibre working-class rock stars, the likes of which
were typified in the 60s by Pete Townshend, Steve Marriott and
John Lennon. This decade only folk like Lee Brilleaux, Wilko Johnson,
Phil Lynott and (I suppose) Noddy Holder have come anywhere near
to continuing that tradition, but none of these has even aspired to be
let alone been taken seriously as a spokesman for their generation.
Whats more, theres nothing intrinsically teenage about either the
Feelgoods, Thin Lizzy or Slade which is not true of The Jam, whose Paul
Weller will in years to come, if not sooner, be regarded in the same light as
those previously mentioned 60s figures.
Weller has Rock Star written all over him and its not just the fact that
his razor cut and clothes bring back memories of the mod era. On stage
and off, Weller, unlike some of his new-wave peers, is taut with positive
vibrations almost as if hes about to
explode. Only occasionally does he slow
down with the intensity and then you
realise that Weller is after all a guy on the tip
of his 19th birthday from Woking in Surrey,
on the far reaches of Londons hinterland.
ian dickson / getty
June 13, 1977: Weller

summons the spirit of
Pete Townshend with
his red Rickenbacker
330 at the Top Rank,
Reading, Berkshire
Remarkably unconfused, his age doesnt strike you, despite the total
absence of lines on his face. In one publicity shot of The Jam, Weller,
perhaps not coincidentally, looks as if hes trying his darnedest to come
on like Pete Townshend, eyebrows arched to emphasise his determinedly
mean stare. Weller, in his own way, is doing what Townshend did more
than a decade ago writing songs for and about kids and performing
them with the exhilaration only a few can muster. And thats where age is
an important, if not crucial, factor.
Live, The Who still have more energy than any other band in rock, but its
calculated, polished energy. When The Jam hit the stage the commitment
is all but tangible, Weller putting his all, and more besides, into it.
I first stumbled across the band at Islingtons Hope & Anchor, where,
incredibly enough, The Jam managed to come over visually despite the
severe limitations imposed by the venues tiny stage. The area between
band and audience was alive with electric energy, the pogoing kids and
The Jams frontline of Weller and Foxton (another good-looking guy, less
tough-looking than Weller, though still possessing a youthful tightness)
in total empathy with one another Weller thrusting himself up and
down with youthful abandon, occasionally pushing himself towards
Foxton, who simultaneously launched himself backwards in Wellers
direction so that the two collided momentarily, a double act with all the
markings of a classic Rod-and-Ronnie or Bowie-and-Ronson routine.
Given more room, Weller gets into a few Townshendesque, thighstucked-beneath-the-abdomen leaps, the sense of commitment
transcending mere plagiarism. Rick Buckler, complete with shades,
looks good behind the drums, exuding nonchalant cool.
Musically, The Jam reflect Wellers tightness. There is nothing remotely
sloppy about them, and they execute their material with a taut knifeedged intensity while losing nothing in the way of warmth. As Chris
Parry, the Polydor A&R man who signed them, says, their
music is brutal, but it is not without compassion.
Individually they play great too, especially Weller and
Foxton. These two have plumped for Rickenbacker guitars,
which goes some way to explaining why The Jams sound is
comparable to early Who and on occasions to The Beatles
themselves; those with ears will have noticed the similarity
between Wellers lead runs on the flipside of the groups
In The City single, Takin My Love, and the way John
Lennon used to embellish a rocknroll song like Bad Boy
or Dizzy Miss Lizzy.
But like Lennon or Townshend at least early Townshend
Weller is essentially a rhythm guitarist and quite a remarkable
one at that, perfectly capable of playing fast, clipped rhythm
chords like Wilko Johnson, or coming on with triumphantly
ruthless power chords, just like Townshend. You should hear the way
Weller plays on Larry Williams late-50s rocknroll classic Slow
Down. Go, Paul, go.
The Jams version of Slow Down, live and on their soon-to-bereleased first album, is almost as good as The Beatles, though, as
befits the genre, played faster and with more urgency. Its their overall
pace which they have in common with our other new-wave bands,
but their music is not just about playing fast. Their songs (all of em
Wellers) are, with the exception of The Stranglers (hardly a teenage
band anyway), easily the best, musically and lyrically, to come out of
all this punk hoopla.
True, there are more than a few resemblances between the chord
progressions Weller uses and those Townshend laid down in the past,
but there is no denying Wellers ability to write a song which rings true.
And one which has melody and passion behind it.
Of the 10 originals which grace their album, its the lengthy (over three
minutes), reflective dolefulness of Away From The Numbers (great
title, eh? Conjuring up all kinds of images) which impresses me most.
But every song is memorable, whether its the pure adrenalin rush of
Art School, the reckless abandon of Ive Changed My Address or
Wellers paean to the fact that for the first time in ages young bands are
playing to young audiences, Sounds From The Street.
Apart from their own songs (and, of late, Foxton has started to write),
The Jam include in their set blistering versions of those two mid-60s
soul classics Wilson Picketts Midnight Hour and Arthur Conleys
THE JAM
Sweet Soul Music as well as a version of The Whos

So Sad About Us
In a nutshell, The Jam have taken what they
want from the past and fused it with a 70s street
consciousness while totally eschewing the blind
negativity which has, until now, been de rigueur
among their fellow rebels.
As Weller once told Sniffin Glue: I dont dig
hippies, but they achieved something in the
60s. They brought about a little more liberal
thinking. Were all standing and saying how
bored we are and all this shit. But why dont
we go and start an action group, help the
community? How many people can you see
getting off their arses? Not fucking many.
All this
change-theworld thing is
becoming a bit
too trendy
hen paul Weller was a kid in

Woking, the son of a labourer (who,
incidentally and ironically enough,
gave up his job six months ago to manage The
Jam), he was absolutely besotted by the Fab Four. He had one of those
Beatles souvenir guitars, the red-and-white plastic ones replete with
mini-portraits and autographs of the Fabs. Paul used to mime to
She Loves You in front of the TV. Later on he got himself a Hofner
violin bass just like McCartneys.
Ive got a Rickenbacker now, so Im Pete Townshend, he mocks
defensively for there have been those who contend that The Jam are just
pale shadows of the early Who.
At the local comprehensive school he grew his hair long and smoked
dope, just like all the other kids did, to rebel. Rick and Bruce were at the
same school, but because of the age difference (theyre both 21), the three
of them didnt know one another that well. From the age of 14, Weller was
convinced he was going to be a rock star, thereby gaining exemption from
the humdrum. I didnt want to work, he says. I didnt want to become
Mr Normal. He has no doubt hell succeed, either.
Weller left school when he was 16. For a time he worked as a window
cleaner and worked on the building with his dad, whod always
encouraged him in his musical pursuits. Most of the time, though, he
didnt work, finally falling in with Buckler (whod stayed on at school in
the sixth form with the idea of becoming an architect, but quit before
A-levels came round and worked for a time as an electrical inspector) and
Foxton (who had got himself an apprenticeship in the printing trade).
Weller might have been a Beatle freak, but the thing which changed his
life was hearing The Whos My Generation on the Stardust album a
couple of years ago. He fell in love with the mod image. And, while hes
unwilling to admit it, Townshends influence on Weller cant be dismissed.
Its apparent when he voices off about what he thinks of The Who these
days over-reacting to the point of scoffing at Roger Daltreys beer gut.
You cant play rocknroll when youve got a beer gut.
Weller is adamant that The Who havent produced a worthwhile lick
since Tommy and expresses no interest in seeing them, despite the fact
that hes never seen them on stage. Opines Weller, The songs Townshend
writes now are so self-martyr shit. He cant rest on his laurels for the rest
of his life. Why doesnt he give way to some of the younger bands? Hes got
a lot of money and so have the Stones, so why doesnt he put it into some
clubs or build a I dont know anything. Just do something with it.
Some rehearsal studios or a record company.
I think they owe it to the business, if anything. Theyve got enough out
of the music business, so they should put some back. Instead of Keith
Moon going round smashing up cars, use that money instead of wasting
it. Thats what really pisses me off. This is the old order and theyre all
wasting their bread. Paul McCartney brings his cats up on a plane and all
this sort of shit.
Lennon is the only one who hasnt sold out. Hes the only bloke Ive got
confidence in still. Hes quietened down. Hes not so outspoken, but I like
him still. Its like us doing In The City when were 27. Maybe well be
expected to sing it like The Who are expected to sing My Generation, but
I dont think wed do it.
Unsurprisingly, he has little sympathy for tax exiles.
Theres people that work in factories that pay a lot of tax and they cant
split to the South of France, he says rather naively. Why dont these rich
rock stars open up some clothes shops? Theres no personalised clothes
these days, which is one minor thing, but
Buckler butts in. You walk up this road here and

you look in the clothes shops [Oxford Street] and
theyre all the same. All the clothes shops are exactly
the same.
Weller points out that such mass production is
a sign of the times.
Really, Buckler continues, people are
forced into buying that kind of thing because
they say this is the thing to wear.
Surprisingly enough, all the band,
particularly Weller, are fiercely patriotic. When
The Jam perform, they drape a Union Jack
behind them and its unusual if one or more
garments of Wellers isnt decorated with the
odd Union Jack or two. They even went to the
trouble of having some badges made with
Union Jacks on them. Weller believes in the
monarchy (and this is the same scene which
sired the Pistols) and defends the Queen so:
Shes the best diplomat weve got. She works
harder than what you or I do, or the rest of the country.
Buckler echoes him: Theyre an example to the country.
So much for Anarchy In The UK Moreover, Weller says hell vote
Conservative at the next election, and he and Buckler reckon its the
unions who run the country.
But even if fundamentally Weller supports such pillars of the
establishment as the monarchy and the Tory party, his songs do have
strong reformist attitudes. Bricks And Mortar numbers councils for
getting their priorities wrong (Wokings like a fucking bomb site, he
says). One of his newer songs describes his fear that Britain is heading
towards a police state. And throughout his songs the predominant theme
is youth consciousness.
We dont love parliament. Were not in love with Jimmy Callaghan. But
I dont see any point in going against your own country. If theres such a
thing in the world as democracy, then weve got it. Were not totally brainwashed yet. We will be in two years time if we dont do something about it.
Everybody goes on about new orders, but no one seems really clear what
they are. Chaos is not really a positive thought, is it? You cant run a country
on chaos. Maybe a coalition or something with younger party members.
All this change-the-world thing is becoming a bit too trendy. I realise that
were not going to change anything unless its on a nationwide scale.
Quite rightly, The Jam think theyre a cut above the other new-wave
bands, surmising that their songs are better-structured and more subtle
lyrically. They have kind words for the Pistols, though.
They spurred the whole thing off. Not that were very much
associated with them, but they still did a lot for the music. They brought
about a lot of change. They frightened some of the older musicians, which
is a good thing.
So did they influence you at all musically?
It wasnt that I saw the Pistols, says Weller. It was that for the first time
in years I realised there was a younger audience there, young bands
playing to young people, which was something wed been looking for in
a long time.
Most of the new-wave bands are very much into speed
Were not into drugs, Weller replies very quickly. We dont need it. We
dont need that to go on stage with. We dont need it to get in the mood of
playing. We might when were 30 or something. We might have to. In that
case well give up.
The Jam have been together for two years. Originally they were a fourpiece. They started off playing the usual stuff Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley
before going through a phase of playing Merseybeat (Beatles songs
were too difficult), for a time wearing satin suits and adopting a
teenybop image. And before hitting the London circuit last year theyd
worked in working mens clubs and cabaret around the Woking area.
Three months ago they signed to Polydor, Chris Parry (the A&R man
whod almost signed the Pistols, The Clash and The Damned) offering
them a contract as fast as he could so as to ensure a rival company didnt
step in with a larger advance.
Already theres action on their first single In The City, a genuine
70s teen anthem, and when their album of the same name comes out
later this month, dont be surprised if that follows The Clash and The
Damneds albums up the charts, for The Jam alone justify the emergence
of the new wave. Steve Clarke
1977
a p r i l J U NE
last, Rastaman
Vibration, was rather
cultish, this is more
accessible, melodically
richer, delivered with
more directness
than ever. Lets face
it, after an attempt on
his life, Marley has
a right to celebrate
his existence, and
thats how the album
sounds: a celebration.
Ray Coleman, MM May 14
The Clash
The Clash CBS
May 13, 1977: Bob Marley

on stage with the Wailers
at Houtrust Hallen in The
Hague, Netherlands
ALBUMS
GijsbeRt HanekRoot / Getty
Bob Marley
Exodus ISLAND
THE MOOD: If some gunmen
had charged into your house and
shot you and your manager into
a hospital bed, then perhaps
you, too, would go into a studio
and make a religious album if
you were capable of making
music at all.
The fact is that this is a highly
charged spiritual record by the
reggae musician most capable
of articulating the mood of his
people. It was conceived by
Marley shortly after his brush
with disaster at the hands of
gunmen, and thus theres
precious little joy about it.
Even so, Marley sounds his
customarily up self and
there are fewer more
worthwhile sounds around
in contemporary music.
THE MUSIC: Only one song,
Waiting In Vain, comes across
as a plain love theme. For the
rest, theres either the traditional
sensuality weve come to expect
By an odd quirk of fate,

this debut album by
The Clash came into
the MM office on the
same day as The
Beatles Live At
Hamburg. Both found
their way on to the
record player and the
somewhat surprising
reaction was that The
Beatles album induced
derisory laughter, while
The Clash produced
requests for even
louder volume.
The lesson from that
is not that the MM is
full of punk-rock
freaks not a
safety-pin
among us
ALBUMS
(honest) nor
that we dont
like The
Beatles, but
that
in the 70s
1977
punk rock has
the vitality which
many now esteemed
bands had when they
were first starting. And it sounds
a lot more fun, especially when
youre not listening too closely,
than triple-album concepts.
It would be ludicrous, of course,
to judge The Beatles by what is
little more than a bootleg;
probably even more ludicrous to
expect The Clash to achieve
even more than one-tenth of
what the Fab Four did. But it at
least shows that at one time they
and the Stones,
and The Who, and
all the other
establishment
bands sounded
pretty rotten. They
werent adept at
their instruments
(to say the least;
you ought to hear
George Harrison
on Hamburg), they
hit bum notes,
their harmonies
REVIE
W
from Marley, or the

spirituality of the
first side. The
Heathen, Exodus an
unremittingly powerful track,
perhaps the most potent on the
LP and the heavy insinuation of
Guiltiness are all examples of
spiritual conviction, but the
endearing aspect of them all is
the simplicity with which theyre
delivered. You dont get the
feeling that a sermon is coming
at you, or that Marley has
suddenly found God.
One Love, the final song
on the record, is pure gospel,
and delivered with an
astonishing, insistent beat,
a deadly combination of oldfashioned blues hollering and
1977 reggae wailing.
Jamming would be an
instant disco smash if issued as
a single; Turn Your Lights Down
Low is slow and sexy; Natural
Mystic is light, polite, yet
systematically all-enveloping
in the Marley tradition.
THE RESULT: This is a
mesmerising album. While his
were flat; all the faults we lay

at the punk rockers door.
Yet they had an energy
that overrode all those
considerations, and a defiance of
the status quo. The attitude was:
if you want to hear note-perfect
music, go to a classical concert.
The same applies today, except
that in many cases you can
substitute rock for classical. It
all boils down, of course, to what
exactly you do want. Personally,
I care neither for the reverential
neo-classical shows of the Pink
Floyd, nor for my turntable to be
filled all day with the extremely
restricted music performed by
The Clash and their cohorts.
Punk rock strikes me as an
experience to be savoured in
small doses and, if on record,
then at a high volume and
preferably while doing
something else. A closer
examination, I find, leads to
headaches, thanks to the
tuneless repetition of chords
at a breakneck pace.
The Clash, if you can believe it,
manage to make the Stooges
sound subtle. A shame that the
instruments have the upper
hand, because lurking beneath
the racket are some interesting
lyrics, snatches of which its
possible to hear if you listen
carefully (not recommended).
Its here that The Clash, and
others of their ilk, justify their
existence. Just as in the
pre-Beatles era lyrics had
degenerated into moon in
June romantic slush, so has the
standard of todays pop song lyric
gone back into a moronic slump?
By its very definition, popular
music should not just be for the
people, but about them, too.
The Clash do exactly this,
chronicling the ideas,
frustrations and problems of
disaffected youth in songs like
Remote Control, Cheat and
48 Hours these are the kind
of themes that ought to be in the
chart (if someone could write
a tune for them, of course).
Particularly impressive is
the sneering denunciation of
Michael Oldfield, MM Apr 16
The Stranglers
Strangers IV (Rattus Norvegicus)
UNITED ArTISTS
Just about the only predictable

thing about rock is that as soon as
something new comes along,
theres always someone willing to
jump on the bandwagon. Even
more predictable is that punk
rock/new wave is going to get
more than its fair share of these
jerks, simply because it is a genre
without rules and regulations.
The Stranglers strike me as one
such group attempting to cash in.
On the face of it, theyve got all
the punk credentials: the name,
the musical incompetence, even
a gig supporting Patti Smith. But
one look at this album is enough
to let you know where The
Stranglers are at or, perhaps,
where their record company
would like them to be at.
Theres a beautifully designed
sleeve and inner sleeve, a special
label with The Stranglers rat
logo and even try and hide the
groans a free single. ELP should
be so lucky! As a special bonus
for us lucky reviewers, theres
a bundle of press cuttings, fax,
pix and info, a press release thats
magnificently mistyped and
here comes the real killer a card
from their press-and-publicrelations consultant.
This is the music of disaffected
youth, struggling against a hard
MM Apr 23
Quirks, niceness and

charm: (lr) Johnny,
Tommy, Joey and
Dee Dee Ramone
SINGLES
Sex Pistols
God Save The Queen
SINGLES
W
REVIE
VIrgIN
Ramalamafa fa fa! Just in

case there was any danger of
forgetting that the Pistols are
a rock band instead of just a
media hoax/guaranteed talkshow laff-getter/all-purpose
scapegoat or whatever, heres a
record which actually managed
to squeak its way past the official
guardians or our morality and
may well be in your shops any
minute now. It may even stay
there long enough for you to
buy it. It comes out on Saturday
and itll probably be banned by
Monday, so move f-a-s-t.
The real title of this song is
No Future, but its received so
much notoriety as God Save
The Queen that now its called
God Save The Queen so that
you can get what you ask for
when you ask for it. And what
you will get when you ask for it is
a remorseless, streamlined
crusher of a single that
establishes the Pistols
credentials as a real live
rocknroll band. Up front, star
of stage and screen Johnny
Rotten (the singer) gets to grips
with the already oft-quoted lyric
in the inimitably charming
manner that has made him the
darling of international cafe
society. Were the future/
Youre the future/NO FUTURE!
he leers, except that there is a
future, youre it and if you dont
take it, then youve only
yerownass to blame
Anyway, buy it. Buy it whether
you like the Sex Pistols or not. If
people try that hard to stop you
from hearing something, then
you owe it to yourself to find out
why. Besides, since 1977
marks the Queens
ascent to cultfigure status,
maybe the
reason that
punx dig
her so
much is
that shes a
shining
example to all
of us. How many
1977
of you dole
queue cowboys
can get that much
bread for posing all
year? Gabba gabba hey! Which
reminds me NME, May 28
Ramones
Sheena Is A Punk Rocker SIrE
For the time being, this is
available as a 12-incher with
a cute picture sleeve, T-shirt
offer, green stamps, chance to
win a three-year subscription to
New Society and all manner of
specialised weirdness like that,
but Im reviewing this off a plain
old seven-incher and it still
sounds sufficiently monstrous.
Monstrously charming,
that is. Sheena Is A
Punk Rocker is a
heart-warming
love song with
references to
surfboards and
discotheques
and its got
harmonies and a
chorus and
and Look, all the
Ramones songs
sound like hit singles
and then dont sell, but this
song is so flat-out delightful that
not even the dull-as-bleedinditch-water Brit-public will be
able to resist it. The sheer charm
and essential niceness of Dolly
Ramones four horrible sons is
gonna win out. And even if it
doesnt, theres always the
double B-side of Commando
(from the last album) and I
Dont Care (never previously
released) to cop the sympathy
vote. Me, I like I Dont Care
because of the beautifully
soulful way in which Joey
Ramone lists all the various
things he doesnt
care about.
Heart-warming
just isnt the
word, though
I havent
the faintest
idea what
is. NME,
May 28
RobeRta bayley/Getty
the employment prospects

faced by the young in
Career Opportunities.
Some commentators will no
doubt find the most significance
in the only non-original on the
album, a cover of Junior Marvins
big reggae hit of last year,
Police And Thieves (you know,
rebellious white youth links with
angry blacks to create a potent
political force, blah, blah, blah),
but I shall leave that for the
sociologists, except to say that
its a musically creditable version.
As an album, The Clash is
pretty much what youd expect:
raucous, basic, and should go
down a treat with the Blank
Generation. Thank God Im
too old to have to enjoy it.
business that wont

give them a break?
Smells more like hype
to me. The music on
the album confirms
that The Stranglers
have little or nothing
to offer. Theyre
singularly lacking in
all of the virtues that
new-wave bands like
The Clash, The
Damned and the Pistols have as
their saving grace; theyre about
as energetic as a slug, and their
lyrics, far from providing an
outlet for the frustrations of
todays young, are the same
old tripe used by most of the
bands the punks love to hate
but with a few naughty swear
words thrown in.
Heres an example of the wit
and wisdom of The Stranglers
from Peaches: Strolling along,
minding my own business/Well
there goes a girl now, hi/Shes
got me going up and down/Shes
got me going up and down/
Walking on the beaches looking
at the peaches/Well Ive got the
notion girl that youve got some
suntan lotion in that bottle of
yours/Spread it all over my
peeling skin, baby, that feels
real good/All the skirts lapping
up the sun/Lap me up.
All this is delivered in the usual
arrogant tone, as though it were
something momentous, and over
a stunningly boring keyboarddominated riff. It has been
suggested that The Stranglers
resemble The Doors: an insult if
I ever heard one. Its true that the
opening cut, Sometimes,
sounds like its based on the
Light My Fire organ solo;
yet they are more akin to
a late-60s Detroit band, SRC,
through their use of keyboards,
but without half the Americans
style in exploiting doom-laden
chords, nor even anything as
remotely cheeky as combining
Hall Of The Mountain King
with Becks Bolero.
In truth, The Stranglers are no
more than a cut-rate version of
60s American punk bands, but
with none of the fizz that made
that music so enjoyable. About
the only thing they do well is
write the titles to their songs;
Grip, Down In The Sewer and
Ugly promise something more
interesting than a succession of
deadening riffs and a noticeable
lack of ideas. The only sense in
which The Stranglers could be
considered new wave is that no
one has had the gall to palm off
this rubbish before. Michael Oldfield,
1977
a p r i l J U NE
March 1977: Elvis Costello

and his natural-finish
Fender Jazzmaster
during the photoshoot
for the cover of his debut
album My Aim Is True
Im not askin
anybody
for charity
MELODY MAKER JUNE 25
Lets talk about the future now, well put the past away Elvis Costello, Less Than Zero
LVIS COSTELLO waS emphatic: he would volunteer no information about his past.
I dont, he said, adjusting his shades impatiently, really think that the past my past
is all that interesting. I dont see any point in talking about the past. I dont want to get into
that. I mean, I havent just learned the guitar in the last 10 minutes, but Im not going to get
talking about what Ive done in the past.
Nobody showed any interest in me then. If you werent there, you missed it and thats it.
Its gone. The people who were there then either appreciated it or they didnt. The past would only be relevant
to them. As far as Im concerned, its pointless talking about the past. Fuck it. Id just rather talk about the
future, you know.
There. I told you he was emphatic, didnt I?
Elvis Costello and I are bickering this sun-drenched Tuesday afternoon in an office above Stiff Records
London HQ because I had, accidentally, seen and been enthralled by his performance a week earlier at the
Nashville Rooms.
Friday, May 27, it was: Id tubed over to West Kensington to catch the Rumour that night. The presence, at
the bar of the Nashville, of Stiff executive Jake Riviera, accompanied by an assorted crew of Stiff hirelings and
lackeys, seemed, initially, to be of no profound consequence.
There exist, after all, several connections between Stiff, Graham Parker and the Rumour; and anyway, Jake
aint the kind of cat whod miss out on a decent lig should one appear on the horizon as it had that evening.
Jakes appearance, however, was not on this occasion relegated to the pursuit of hedonistic adventures. He
announced casually that one Elvis Costello, a recent Stiff protg, was to make a previously unscheduled
debut as supporting attraction for the Rumour. This information I received with considerable interest. Elvis
Costello, though not yet a name on the lips of the nation, had released two singles ( Less Than Zero and,
more recently, Alison) of rare distinction. To see this
enigmatic charmer in action was,
unquestionably, a proposition
not to be overlooked.
Well, I dragged myself away
from the bar as a brief whisper
of applause signalled Els
appearance. And there he
stood, alone on the
stage: black cropped
hair swept back, the
inevitable shades
shielding his eyes,
slickly cut Harry Fenton
jacket, blue jeans and
Fender guitar. His
attitude and
keith morris / getty
Introducing, on
Stiff Records,
ELVIS COSTELLO,
a sharp-eyed
laureate of the new
wave. Im not an
arbitrator of public
taste or opinion,
he says. I dont
have a following of
people waiting for
my next word.
1977
a p r i l J U NE
performance were both characterised by an aggressive conviction and, as

the applause between songs intensified, a clear and thrilling confidence.
Elvis Costello, let me tell you, bowled me out of my breeches that night.
Why, I even swore that if a platter containing such Costello meisterwerks
as (The Angels Wanna Wear) My Red Shoes, Mystery Dance, Im Not
Angry and Waiting For The End Of The World was not in the vicinity of
my Dansette turntable by the end of the month Id be around to Stiff
looking for the head of Jake Riviera.
The fact that Jakes head remains unsevered would suggest that the
platter for which I yearned has been delivered; and so it has, to my
immense delight. Trouble is that Stiff, after falling out with Island, are
without a distribution organisation. Els album has been temporarily
suspended it was originally due for release this very week, actually.
Fear not, however. It will be with you soon. In the meantime, I thought Id
bring you a despatch from the Elvis Costello front
ERE wE go: Elvis Costello is 22. Hes been writing songs for
eight years. Since he first negotiated three juvenile chords on
a battered guitar, in fact. He reluctantly admits to listening to
the likes of The Beatles, Cliff Bennett and Georgie Fame as an adolescent:
Standard stuff. Whatever was on the radio.
Elvis, though he elsewhere proves to be refreshingly honest and
forthright in the opinions he expresses, remains defiantly vague about
the songs he was composing during this early period of his career. Ive
written hundreds of songs, he says. I write at least a song a week. That
doesnt necessarily mean I keep them all.
Theyre not all classics. I mean, Ive discarded songs I wrote last
month because I thought they were inept or didnt match up to the best
of what Ive written. I wouldnt talk about them, let alone songs I wrote
eight years ago.
I had been interested in these earlier songs, I explain, simply because
I wanted to form some idea of the pattern and evolution of his writing.
The songs collected on his forthcoming album, My Aim Is True, for
instance, are marked by a precocious maturity. Costello may deal
principally with themes familiar in rock the majority, in fact, are
concerned with fiercely detailed accounts of romantic encounters and
failures but he introduces a ruthless honesty to these themes and
invests his observations and scenarios with perceptive insights and
astonishingly vivid images.
The insecurities and infidelities of relationships, adolescent attempts
to attain a personal identity and independence, are examined with
sensitive compassion and wit often quite acerbic, but equally as often,
as on the classic Alison, with an exquisite tenderness.
Always, Costello retains his originality as a lyricist: he
avoids conclusively the obvious and tiresome teendream
preoccupations of comparative writers like Nils Lofgren
(the midget Yanks recent work, at least), Elliott Murphy and
Springsteen. No, Elvis songs possess the cutting clarity of the
roberta bayley / getty
best of Graham Parker and Van Morrison: indeed, like this latter pair,
Costellos music refers constantly to the classic pop/rock standards of the
last decade, each song being sharply defined and full of irresistible hooks
and delightful instrumental phrasing (for the verve and incisiveness of
the albums sound, some considerable credit must be attributed to Nick
Lowe, Elvis producer).
This influence stuff, says Costello, when several of the
aforementioned musicians are mentioned, is really irritating, cos
people are always trying to pin you down to sounding like somebody else.
I appreciate the comparison you drew with Graham Parker. I suppose
that its because hes currently maybe the only person thats doing
anything like me.
If theres a general musical area that hes working in, then I accept that
Im working in a similar area and the comparison is validly drawn. And Id
rather be compared to Graham Parker than Tom Jones. If someone came
along and said that I sounded like John Denver then Id fucking worry. Its
better to be compared to somebody good; but it still doesnt mean that I sit
at home trying to think of ways to rewrite songs from Heat Treatment.
Anyway, if Id had a record out before Graham Parker, it would all be
reversed cos, you know, the people whore saying that I sound like
Graham Parker are the same people who said that Graham Parker
sounded like Bruce Springsteen, who are the same people who said that
Bruce Springsteen sounded like Van Morrison, who are the same people
who said that Van Morrison sounded the same as Bobby Bland or
whoever. You know, the people who never listen to the fucking music.
The prospect of being compared to Springsteen, whose panavision
scenarios replete with so much obvious romantic, rock-mythology
imagery of a kind quite antithetical to Costellos writing fills Elvis with
anguish and dread.
Springsteen is always romanticising the fucking street, he complains,
with no little justification. Im bored with people who romanticise the
fucking street. The street isnt fucking attractive. I mean, I dont pretend
to live in the heart of one of the worst areas of the world, right. I live near
Hounslow. Its a very boring area. Its a terrible place. Awful. Nowhere.
Nothing happens. Theres nothing exciting or glamorous or romantic
about it.
Theres nothing glamorous or romantic about the world at the
moment. There is no place for glamour or romance. Romance, in the old
pop-song sense, has gone right out of the fucking window for the
moment. Nobodys got the time or the money. Its gone beyond all that.
But, please remember, I dont sit around wondering how people see the
world, or how they feel about things.
I dont attempt to express their feelings. I only write about the way I feel.
I mean, Im not arbitrator of public taste or opinion. I dont have a following
of people who are waiting for my next
word. I hope I never have that kind of
following. People should be waiting for
their own next word. Not mine.
LVIS appRoachEd StIff
Records last August: he arrived at
their office in West London with
a tape of his songs and the response of
Jake Riviera and Dave Robinson (also
manager of Graham Parker) was
immediate and enthusiastic.
They signed him to the label, in fact.
There was no phenomenal advance,
he laughs. Theyve bought me an amp
and a tape recorder. Im glad that theyre
not subsidising me to any greater extent. I
dont want to be put on a retainer and spend
my time ligging around record company
offices like a lot of other musicians.
I dont want any charity. I want to be out
gigging, earning money. I dont want anything
for nothing. Im not askin anybody for their
fucking charity. I went to a lot of record
companies before I came to Stiff. Major record
companies. And I never asked them for
charity. I didnt go in with any servile attitude.
I didnt go in and say, Look, Ive got these
songs and, well, with a bit of patching up and
November 1977: with producer

Nick Lowe at the controls (right),
Costello chats with Attractions
bassist Bruce Thomas as second
album This Years Model is put
together at Eden Studios in
Chiswick, West London
elvis costello
a good producer I might make a good record.

I went in and said, Ive got some great fucking
songs; record them and release them. Stiff were
the only ones that showed that kind of faith in me.
They let me do it. Im still working, right. Ill only
give up the job when I start working with a band.
Elvis mentions, mischievously, that none of the
musicians that contributed their services to his album are credited
on the sleeve (Nick Lowe gets a production credit on the label, though).
It transpires that this was Els idea of a caustic comment upon the
contemporary state of the music business an industry for which Elvis
has very little admiration or respect.
He had a caption, in fact, prepared for the sleeve of his album, which
would have read: No thanks to anybody. Unfortunately, The Damned
got there first when they had printed on the sleeve of their album:
Thanks to no one. El didnt want anyone to think hed copped the idea,
so it was abandoned.
The people who were directly involved with the album know who they
are, El explains, and theyre not the kind of people whod be worried
about credits and namechecks. Equally, the
people who were instrumental in stopping me
from recording before know who they were,
and I wanted to remind them that I hadnt
forgotten them.
Like, I went around for nearly a year with
demo tapes before I came to Stiff, and it was
always the same response. We cant hear the
words. It isnt commercial enough. There
arent any singles. Idiots. Those tapes were just
voice-and-guitar demos. I didnt have enough
money to do anything with a band. It was just
a lack of imagination on the part of those people
at the record companies. I felt as if I was bashing
my head against a brick wall, those people just
werent prepared to listen to the songs.
Its a terrible position to be in. You start thinking youre mad. You listen
to the radio and you watch the TV and you hear a lot of fucking rubbish.
You very rarely turn on the radio or TV and hear anything exciting, right?
And, all the time, you know that youre capable of producing something
infinitely better.
But I never lost faith. Im convinced in my own talent, yeah. Like I said,
I wasnt going up to these people meekly and saying, Look, with your help
and a bit of polishing up, and with all your expertise and knowledge of the
world of music, we might have a moderate success on our hands.
I was going in thinking, Youre a bunch of fucking idiots who dont
know what youre doing. Im bringing you a lot of good songs, why dont
you go ahead and fucking well record them. They didnt seem to
understand that kind of approach.
No, it didnt make me bitter. I was already bitter. I knew what it would
be like. I had no illusions. I have no illusions at all about the music
business. It was no sudden shock to be confronted by these idiots. I didnt
ever think that I was going to walk into a record company to meet all these
fat guys smoking big cigars whod say something like, Stick with me son.
Ill make you a STAR.
Im not starry-eyed in the slightest. You can tell what all these people
are like instinctively. You just have to look at them to tell that theyre
fucking idiots. But I dont want to come off sounding like Im obsessed
with the music business.
I couldnt give a shit about the music business. They just dont know
anything. Thats all youve got to remember. Theyre irrelevant. I dont
give any thought to any of those people. Theyre not worth my time.
coming, as it were. (My Aim Is True, incidentally, is the

first album Ive heard for ages that sounds as if it is
essentially a collection of Top 10 singles.)
I just love the sound of the album, Elvis enthuses.
Cos I love things that sound great on the radio. Less
Than Zero, I thought sounded great on the radio. The
record isnt for people with fucking great hi-fis. Im not
interested in those people, or that kind of mentality. I dont want my
records to be used to demonstrate fucking stereos in Laskys. I just want
people to listen to the fucking music.
I dont want to be successful so that I can get a lot of money and retire to
a house in the fucking country. I dont want any of that rocknroll rubbish.
I dont want to go cruising in Hollywood or hang out at all the star parties.
Im not interested in any of that. Its the arse end of rocknroll. Im just
interested in playing.
I want to put a band together as soon as possible and get out on the
fucking road. Were auditioning people this week. Were looking for
young people. People that want to get out and play. Putting a band
together is the most important thing at the moment.
I think it might be difficult getting the right
kind of people and I can imagine us wading
through a right bunch of idiots. The group
sound I want will be a lot sparser than the
album sound. I just want bass, drum, guitar
my guitar and for keyboards well probably go
for a Vox or Farfisa sound.
I want to get away from the conventional
group sound. Id say that I want a kind of popgroup lineup, but people might take that as
something lightweight or trivial. But it will
be a pop lineup in the sense that it wont be
a rock band.
I hate hard-rock bands. I hate anything with
fucking extended solos or bands that are
concerned with any kind of instrumental
virtuosity. I can listen to maybe 15 seconds of someone like The Crusaders,
say, before I get very bored. I know how good they are because everybody
keeps telling me how fucking marvellous they are. But I get bored.
There are going to be no fucking soloists in my band. The songs are
the most important thing. I want the songs to mean something to people.
I dont mean by that that I want them to be significant. Its just that too
much rock has cut itself off from people. Its become like ballet or
something. Ballet is only for people who can afford to go and see it. Its not
for anybody else. You dont get ballet going on in your local pub.
Theres a lot of rock music thats become exclusive and its of no use to
anyone. Least of all me. Music has to get to people. In the heart, in the
head. I dont care where, as long as it fucking gets them. So much music
gets thrown away. Its such a fucking waste.
Thats why I like and write short songs. Its a discipline. Theres no
disguise. You cant cover up songs like that by dragging in banks of
fucking synthesizers and choirs of angels. They have to stand up on their
own. With none of that nonsense. Songs are just so fucking effective.
People seem to have forgotten that.
Like, people used to live their lives by songs. They were like calendars
or diaries. And they were pop songs. Not elaborate fucking pieces of
music. You wouldnt say, like, Yeah, thats the time I went out with Janet,
we went to see the LSO playing Mozart. Youd remember you went out
with Janet because they were playing Summer In The City on the radio.
You will have gathered by now that Elvis is committed to success; hes
not, however, altogether sure when that success will be achieved.
There are lot of people, he says, who should be successful. If ability
had anything to do with
success, then there would be
a whole lot of obscure people
whod be famous and there
would be a whole lot of
famous people whod be
lingering in obscurity.
Was there anyone, I
wondered, that he would
like to see becoming famous?
Yeah, he replied. Me.
I hate hardrock bands. I

hate anything
with fucking
extended solos
LVIS, who by this time seems to be metamorphising before

my very eyes into the superhuman guise of Captain Verbals,
is telling me about his album. It was recorded, he says, on his
days off from work (he is a computer analyst in Acton), over a very
brief period.
He was fortunate, he readily admits, that Nick Lowe was so sympathetic
a producer: their respective ideas were entirely compatible and there
were few arguments about the sound and instrumentation employed.
All the songs were written within weeks of the first session; Less Than
Zero, his first single, was written three days before it was recorded, for
instance. Elvis just says he felt inspired and excited. The hits just kept on
Allan Jones
1977
rex features
a p r i l J U NE
I dig the whole

romantic aspect of
rocknroll: Tom Petty
on stage with the
Heartbreakers in 1977
The
insanity
hasnt
stopped
TOM PETTY & THE HEARTBREAKERS storm
into the UK. A true pro and a wry critic, Petty
doesnt think anything politics, image should
interfere with the business of rocknroll.
1977
a p r i l J U NE

t didnt seem right somehow,
sandwiching Tom Petty between
the Muppets and Kenny Rogers, but
stranger things have happened on
the set of Top Of The Pops.
Petty, pretty exhausted by the time
the dress rehearsal is taking place and with
no sleep for two days, is bemused by the whole
carry-on, but still maintains control. I mean,
it is expected that he should be on his knees
thanking producer Robin Nash for the
exposure. He shouldnt be stopping in the
middle of the song, complaining that the
backing track isnt loud enough. He does.
Any respectable band, according to Pettys
Island Records press officer, is embarrassed at
participating in the TOTP charade, though they
wont bluntly admit to it. Petty seems a little
frustrated about it all, and on returning to the
dressing room, immediately heads for the whisky bottle for consolation.
When the show is finally recorded, Petty and the Heartbreakers actually
look as if theyre enjoying it all. Whisky rocknrollers.
The appearance on Top Of The Pops, important though it is in
determining the fate of the single, Anything Thats RocknRoll, seems
trivial when placed alongside the catalogue of events that have whisked
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers from being an unknown American band
a couple of months ago to one that is on the lips of most people in the
music business and quickly winning popularity among the masses.
Backed only by a debut album and very little feedback from their own
country, Petty and his band dallied in a couple of months ago to a support
spot on the prestigious Nils Lofgren tour. Lofgrens success pattern is
similar to Pettys build-up, with minimal American recognition and
quite the opposite here.
Petty, history now has it, went down the proverbial storm on the Lofgren
tour, and Island Records sussed out that they had a winner on their
hands, backing up their optimism with Pettys
own headlining tour as soon as his Lofgren
commitment had ended. It was, I think, an
unprecedented move, a virtually unknown act
turning from support to headline literally
overnight, but the optimism of the record
company and promoter was borne out, with an
enthusiastic response from fans who recalled
Pettys performance as support to Nils.
Petty and the Heartbreakers got together
about 18 months ago in Los Angeles. He had
known the band (Stan Lynch, Mike Campbell,
Ron Blair and Benmont Tench) from his days
back home in Florida, from which they had
all departed to seek fame and fortune in
greener fields.
Petty had come to LA with a band called Mudcrutch and when they
broke up, his time was spent working in the studio, fulfilling his
recording contract with Shelter. Petty just had to get out of the South.
The legendary Southern boogie wasnt quite his bag.
Nothin gainst it, Petty mutters from behind his sleepy haze.
I thought the Allmans were good, but I didnt dig the imitations. I mean,
I lived in the South for years and not everybody played that way. I
remember seein the Allmans when they were playin Beatles songs and
wearin collarless jackets. They were one of the first bands I ever saw.
Then they got this new kinda thing and everybody just jumped over to
it, and then everybody else naturally assumed that it had been goin on
for years. It was like, Hey man, theres a record company opened up in
Macon [Capricorn] and all ya gotta do is play like this and you get a
contract. But it just wasnt the kinda thing we were
into. We were more English-influenced. I got my first
guitar after I heard The Beatles and Stones. I always
dug that stuff
He goes off on a tangent, as is his wont.
I dig rock bands that are rock bands that are
complete entities. Thats one of the things thats
Were professionals:
(lr) Benmont Tench,
Mike Campbell, Tom
Petty, Ron Blair and
Stan Lynch backstage
in LA, August 1977
frustrating me now. Im not able to control everything

thats happenin around me because weve been so
overwhelmed since coming to England. Since I got off the
plane, the insanity hasnt stopped though I like insanity.
I mean, Im insane. This is like goin to Disneyland, you know. Its an
E-coupon ride. Mr Toads Wild Ride. Thats what I think it is: into the bus,
into the dressing room, onto the stage, back to the studio.
After the Rainbow, were just takin a week off, to get things together how
we want to do em. We were just a little band, you know, before this, just
trying to rocknroll and now its a bit more pushy. Were grateful and all
that, that people dig it, but Im just concerned that it stays under control.
We just wanna get on and play. If you hire this band, youll get a
rocknroll show. This is a real thing. I get slightly put off by the theatre
groups, or whatever they are. A lot of rock bands try to act like theatre
groups, and it just aint real at all. Its just a big stance. I dont think that
you should do anything that you cant back up. A stance shouldnt be
taken unless its determined by the music.
Theres a lot that is 80 percent stance and 20 percent music. Its like, can
the music catch up on the stance? Ive thought about it a lot and its not
right. The music should determine the stance,
know what I mean? You are what you are.
I wanna be good. Were professionals. I dont
think thats a bad word. Its just guaranteeing
people their moneys worth. You cant say,
Well, Ive been out for 14 nights and this is the
15th, so fuck it.
You have to go out and kick it. Its a little bit of
a trick stayin in that frame of mind where you
can kick it at will. Really, its just a matter of
stayin aware of whats goin on.
Accepting, then, that Petty was aware of the
dramatic incidents surrounding him since his
British arrival, did he think that he was ready to
go out on a headlining tour so soon after
supporting Lofgren? The boy is confident.
Yeah, I did, I knew we were. This is a good band. We know its a good
band. When we came on the Nils tour, we had a near riot goin on at the
first gig within 15 minutes. I could tell what was happenin and it
happened every night.
It still hasnt got artificial, but I dont want to stay on the road much
longer without havin a chance to stop and think about all this, get some
more songs, keep evolving and keep raising the standards. I dont like the
music business and I refuse become a businessman, although I know
youve got to deal with it. I just want to entertain. If we all get to be great
musicians, we wont all just stand there and say, Hey, dig my hands, dig
my fingers, or dig my throat.
We aint that way. Were cruisers. Id rather have a few drinks and dance
around, but still play. All the people I always liked did that. They played.
If you went to see the Rolling Stones, you actually saw
something. You saw the band play. There was more
to it than what your ears got and there was more to
it than what your eyes got.
Ive seen instances where the image takes
over everything. What we are is a working
rocknroll band.
Michael Ochs archives/getty
When I was
14, me and
Mike used to
play in those
topless bars
TOm peTTy
They played adequately

MM JUNE 25 An under-amplified Petty and co are
upstaged by some hungry young Rats from Dublin.
Campbells lead guitar keeping
strictly to the record over the
rhythm section of Ron Blair on
bass and Stan Lynch on drums.
Campbells guitar was one of
the main points of interest. He
plays with control and as much
subtlety as the fairly limited
structure of the music allows,
his tone and feedback control
colouring his crisp solos.
Keyboard player Benmont
Tench is a careful player, using
his synthesizer effectively to
add atmosphere to the gentler
songs and the electric piano to
beef up the rockers.
But all this, plus Toms
bounding rhythm work and
aforementioned vocals, did
little to mask the fact that the
other half of the bands material
was bland and uninspired,
lacking musical excitement or
lyrical appeal.
For my money, the evening
was made by support band The
Boomtown Rats, a bunch of
Dublin lads led by Bob Geldof
who play with a finely honed
combination of attack, pace,
energy and crisp musicality.
Their music is R&B derived,
reminiscent at times of the
early Stones, Chuck Berry, the
Feelgoods you get the
message. Twin guitars cut and
thrust, spitting chords and
sneaking out spiky solos while
the rhythm section moves like
someone is putting the boot in
at a regular four to the bar.
Out in front, Geldof,
a tall, strangely
RAiNbOw thEAtRE
animated figure,
LONDON
at times a dead
ringer for an
arrogant Jagger,
kicks, runs, dives
and
generally
JUNE 19
hurls himself
around the stage,
cutting to the mic
with split-second
precision to deliver
his vocals with guts
and power.
You may
have seen it all
somewhere
Nothing to go
before, but the
berserk about:
Tom Petty at
precision and
the Rainbow
energy of this band
make them a whole
new experience.
K, LeTS START with

some facts. Tom Petty &
The Heartbreakers hit
the music scene with a
creditably impressive debut
album a few months back.
Some say it was the best debut
they had heard in an age, and
while I reckon that is a trifle
expansive, it is certainly a
neatly produced album with
a handful of fine songs.
The band was packed on
board the recent Nils Lofgren
gravy train, and took the laurels
from right under the jaded
Lofgrens nose. Good for them.
Then came this headline tour,
ending up with Tom P and the
boys at Londons Rainbow on
Sunday night.
Given these facts, I just cannot
understand the tumultuous
reception given to the band.
They played adequately
enough, doing a very fair cover
job of the main songs on the
album and letting rip on some
older material, but it was
nothing to go berserk about.
For a start, it was underamplified a rare event with
Toms soft voice often well
below the level of the guitar
line. Then came the songs
themselves. A good half of the
show featured the best tracks
from the debut album, with
songs like American Girl and
Strangered In The Night
showing the band at their full
commercial appeal.
They worked well
together, Mike
LIVE!
John Orme
gus stewart/getty
Reading past interviews with Petty, I learned that he had discovered

that chatting about his relationship with girls made good copy, and not
being one to interfere with that
I mean, what other hobbies can you carry around with you in a hotel
room, apart from chicks? What are you gonna do, build aeroplanes, bowl?
Course not, youre gonna look for some girls, Captain Stud continues.
I dig it. I dig the whole romantic aspect of rocknroll. Its fun. Youre
a fool, I think. Youd have to be a fool to do this and not enjoy yourself.
As much as I can bitch some days, I always enjoy myself some days
I enjoy bitchin.
Not wishing to hear much more about the frivolity of being Tom Petty,
I drag the subject back to the past, from whence the conversation
stemmed in the first place. Most of Pettys repertoire early on revolved
around Rolling Stones numbers. From that, he took encouragement,
calculating that if Jagger and Richards could write songs, there was no
reason why he couldnt do the same.
The first song he wrote was probably about some girl that ditched him,
he said, adding that he was very fond of good old-fashioned love songs,
which set him off on a side-road again.
At this point in time, he reminisced, I miss the good old boy/ girl songs
because I think those are the ones that the kids especially relate to. I mean,
I like all the new bands and I like the fact that theres a lotta new rock bands
and that theyre young and that theyve got energy, because the last few
years have been so boring. I think its great that all these bands are around
now, just leapin through the air and doin what rocknroll does.
But I get a little distressed when they get all political and theres no kind
of basic feeling. I mean, some people take music too seriously. For Gods
sake, dont take it seriously. Thats a very funny word, serious, and its
come up a lot lately. Are you serious about this?
I guess I am in one sense of the word, in that I really want to do it. But if
you take it seriously every week, you become a bank clerk or whatever and
you miss the redemption of rocknroll. Im crazy, you know, and it may be
my downfall, but I cant take it that seriously.
Like, every day somebody says, How do you feel about all this
success? and the five of us are just sitting around. What can we say but,
We dig it. I havent really thought about it to any great extent. Nothins hit
me yet, and I hope it dont. I hope I keep acceleratin rather that tryin to
figure out what all this means to me. How boring. Who the hell wants to
read what this means to me?
All they want is records. The records and the shows are what its
about. Im just so knocked out that thousands of kids dig our band. Thats
a tremendous rush, enough to make you do this every day, because
thousands of kids dig it. Its great: I wrote this song and the masses are
goin to hear it too much. And they like it even better.
Back once more to the original subject of his early days, which I have
been attempting to pin Petty down to for the past hour, and this time we
make a bit more headway. After playing around Florida for a couple of
years, Petty moved to LA (We had to choose whether to starve in New
York where it was cold or in LA where it was warm.)
In LA, he met the Heartbreakers and the ideas for the future seemed to
be mutual. Petty at the time had been doing a lot of recording with Denny
Cordell, and when Denny wanted to do some demos Tom brought the
Heartbreakers along and it worked out fine. Petty, though, had to be
persuaded that he could make a go of it with the band, after being stung
through his Mudcrutch experience.
Last summer, Petty and the Heartbreakers set themselves up as
guinea pigs to test the new Shelter Studios in Hollywood and after 15
days came out with their first album. The conditions werent the best,
recording in 100 degrees heat and Petty writing songs in the afternoon
and recording them at night, but everybody was satisfied with the
result. Al Kooper heard the album and insisted that the band should
support him on a tour of bars across the States.
It was a weird tour, Petty recalled, in front of beatniks, old Blood,
Sweat & Tears freaks and assorted married couples, but it was in line
with a policy of having to get out and forcibly win audiences over. It
reminded Petty of earlier days back in Florida, when he worked clubs
with Mike Campbell.
Ten years ago, when I was 14, me and Mike used to play in those
topless bars, doing five or six sets a night, seven nights a week. Wed get
a hundred bucks for this week. To get somebodys attention away from
six pairs of tits is a real gig, and wed do that every night. If Ive got to
leap out, Im goin to leap out to that table and youre gonna watch this.
We still have to do that. Its what keeps it so good. Harry Doherty
1977
a p r i l J U NE
The
dinosaurs
are still
dancing
riCHArD E AArON / GETTY
LED ZEPPELIN continue an epic US tour. ROBERT

PLANT, though, has pertinent thoughts on home,
recent injury, fame, even punk. I went to the Roxy
and got frightened to death, says the 28 year-old,
but at the same time, stood my ground.
June 714, 1977: Led

Zeppelin play six soldout shows at Madison
Square Garden, NYC
1977
a p r i l J U NE

he RobeRt Plant lounging in his hotel suite after
a show, playing blues albums by Elmore James, is a far
cry from the preening, swaggering stage figure who,
half an hour previously, had been the focal point for
20,000 pairs of eyes at Madison Square Garden, New
York. Now, with a beer in his hand and with his feet bare,
hes what the Americans would call a regular guy normal, almost
formal, relaxed, reflective.
Led Zeppelins public face, 28-year-old Plant has a wry, warm sense of
humour, and tonight, in the midst of the bands six-night stint in New York,
hes eager to talk about their past, present and future; his very real fears
that his foot injury might have spelled doom to his career as a singer; the
state of the punk rock industry; his role as a vocalist and relationship with
the rest of the band; what can we expect from Zeppelin in the years ahead.
Two years have elapsed since much has been heard of Zeppelin. There
was the stultifying boredom of the film The Song Remains The Same, but
apart from this silence. Now, they reappear on a long American tour in
top gear, and even Plant is forced to comment on the fact that hes smiling
almost permanently at the twin joys of being back in harness and finding
his foot, injured in a car accident in Greece, to be in decent shape and not
too much of a handicap on stage. Despite the lay-off, he says, he has
experienced little initial stage fright, because they went through a
rigorous two-month rehearsal. They had to. With no new album from
which to draw, they had to first get used to playing together and then work
out new applications of material from Physical Graffiti and older records.
So I was really at home with the idea of playing. The only thing I didnt
know about was whether I was going to be able to pace myself out, with
my foot problem. For the first two or three gigs I was really measuring
every move I made, to find if Id gone too far or whatever. The first gig in
Dallas, Texas, I was petrified. Since Earls Court in London, all this
horrendous physical hoo-ha had taken place and for the 10 minutes
before I walked up those steps in Dallas I was cold with fright.
Supposing I couldnt move around the stage properly, because my right
foot is permanently enlarged now? Well, it was killing for the first two gigs.
I had to be virtually carried back on one foot. But once I got it used to the
concussive knocks of stage work, it was OK and now Ive paced myself so
I can work without anyone, hopefully, realising that I have this thing to
live with. The thing is, I dont really know what Im doing with my body
when Im playing and I just throw myself around the stage instinctively.
But Dallas was the worry: I thought about what would happen
if the foot wouldnt take it. Yet when I walked up the steps to the
stage, all the premonitions and anxieties washed away, and the
exhilaration took over. I thought, Ah, its been so long, and I just
loved being back up there and I was loony again!
getty (2)
And the crowds had been great. To work live was, in Zeppelins plan for
The Big Return, a stimulus for any new albums they intended after such a
spell of inactivity. But they had difficulties with that programme. No new
album meant they were trading on past glories, as Plant described it.
And using material people were familiar with, they had the challenge of
giving people something above and beyond what they had already seen,
because who wanted a Zeppelin stage re-run of two or three years ago?
This was achieved by bringing back the acoustic set for the first time in
America for about seven years, and introducing songs like The Battle Of
Evermore previously rejected because Sandy Denny featured on the
record, and so they couldnt accurately recreate it on stage and taking
the odd risk.
To begin with, people were a little bit restless. They didnt know what
the hell was going on. Kept looking at us, presumably thinking, Are they
really that old? But because of the way in which weve taken the challenge
of reworking our old material and introducing some unlikely aspects of it
into stage work, weve gone a stage farther again.
For the first few concerts, they would look sheepishly at each other on
stage. No one spoke, but the question each seemed to be asking was: are
we getting it right?
Suddenly it burst through after six gigs, so that by the time we got to
places like St Louis, it had taken on another level of control, rather than
merely trotting out the old favourites. For example, John Paul Jones is
getting far more involved now, hes the sort of man-of-the-match!
And so, says Plant, he seemed to be finding himself smiling all the time
now like some grinning goon at the Talk Of The Town because they
had triumphed with their programme, and most of all because he had
been able to overcome something he was never sure he was going to be
capable of doing.
Ive won the battle up to now. Its a great feeling, I can tell you.
Zeppelin were well into the American tour by now, and it seemed
appropriate to ask Plant about the long-term future of the band,
particularly in view of the noisy soundings by lesser breeds who wanted
them to move over and make way for youth. Since they had gone so far
since their formation in 1968, and since he was talking quite
enthusiastically about their future, how did the singer see it shaping?
We took off with so much invigorating energy in 68, and then we
curbed that energy so that the whole dynamics of the band would ebb
and flow so that we wouldnt burn ourselves out musically by taking the
opportunity to go hair-raisingly mad and fade a whole-lotta-loving into
the sunset! he said. By sitting down and taking up the challenge and
realising that we were, are, and will be,
capable of expanding, that can be the
only hope for the future, and thats
how we want to make our impression
and be remembered for constantly
trying to ride the winds of change.
And how good we were at it in the
end, when its all over, will be up to the
individual to judge. I personally think
weve done it all right.
How did Robert see the bands fans
today? Were they picking up new ones
all along the line, or gaining new ones
and losing old ones what were his
own observations of the audiences on
this tour? He laughed and replied:
Id say we have a lot of people there
since the beginning or people who look
as if they were! Then again, I looked
behind the stage tonight, in the seats
that are not readily sought after, and
found a whole new breed coming up.
Kids whove got a pirate Zeppelin T-shirt
on thats much too big for them. And
then I smile. And I see our children, and
kids a few steps behind them digging it,
and in the end I come round to thinking
With an acoustic
that its funny it took such a long time to
section back in the
set, bassist John
bridge so many gaps, musically, yknow.
Paul Jones plays
There was, I mean, that period when
a triple-necked
there was us, alone, with so many other
instrument made
by Alan Manson
bands of good quality and calibre the
led zeppelin
Its only a musical level that we think of ourselves anyway. Its

not who can pull the biggest crowds, cos we leave that to Elton,
God bless him!
Talking of crowds, Plant continued, what really was the basis
of the charge by the punk bands that the dinosaur bands played
to such gigantic crowds, the magic communication twixt star
and fan has been erased? This was sheer nonsense, he argued.
It was like playing in a living room tonight at Madison Square
Garden, he declared. You could easily walk to the side of the
stage, just catch somebodys eye and work to that person, like as
in any club. OK, so there were 20,000 people there, but Im
Robert Plant with
freaky but great
willing to bet that nearly every one of them left that place happy
record producer and
at what theyd seen. It certainly sounded like it to me, anyway,
musician Kim Fowley
judging from the reception they gave us.
in Los Angeles, 1977
Lets face it, if Johnny multi-vocabulary Rotten gets his act
together hed have to take it elsewhere, leave Nottingham Boat
Club behind, because therell be too many people to get into
underground music thing. Now, it doesnt mean a light, just an old
that size of place and hell have more people being unhappy at his lack of
cliche. Now the whole scenes wide open, and its a matter purely of how
foresight. Hell just have to open it up bigger than that. Hell also have to
good you are, whatever your style.
change his act soon. Its getting a bit tiring, all that, because the dinosaur
Take his own tastes, for example. He was currently studying Bulgarian
bands are still dancing.
folk music, especially because it was all vocal and very different from
As a trend, though, he welcomed the new wave and had taken the
what he had listened to before.
trouble to visit its London club, the Roxy, several weeks ago. There, he had
They use quarter-tones, but at the same time, in their harmonies,
experienced Johnny Rotten, who frightened me to death.
instead of firsts, thirds, fifths and sevenths and all the conventional
Plant said, Kim Fowleys the closest Ive ever seen to him, but Kim
European styles of harmony, they use firsts and seconds. And Ive never
Fowleys old enough to be Johnnys dad, and Johnnys as old as me. Kim
been trained to do anything in my life and I find it difficult to harmonise
Fowleys great, one of the great innovators of all time, but hes so
with myself on records. But I find it very inspiring to listen to stuff like that,
permanently weirded out on such a nice level, freaky but great
on the Nonesuch label from the Elektra catalogue. It comes straight out of
Anyway, I went to the Roxy and got frightened to death, but at the
the hills its what you might call mass singing, like village singing when
same time stood my ground for all we dinosaurs, and I saw The Damned.
a village gets together at various times of the year when they hope for this,
I found them very exciting, thrilling. Rat Scabies is a great drummer. Hes
that and the other to happen all that we in Britain have almost lost.
no spring chicken either, and when I look at those eyes well, I know that
Otherwise, Im never too far away from Robert Johnson. Theres no way
those leapers do terrible things to your eyes, but I can read the sands of
on this earth that I could ever find his work tiring. And then there are
time as well!
several things which have come up very nicely Fleetwood Mac have
But theyre good, The Damned. If they didnt have the paint and
taken a nice turn. Obviously its not musically
clothing or whatever and just came along and
new, but I do like that kick-in-the-air Californiadid it, theyd probably be twice as big as they
sand music when its played really well. A lot of it
are now. But theyve had to throw off the robes
went sour, but Fleetwood Mac have brought
of the punk thing, and in doing so its cost
something good out of it. You can never get too
them time. They did that T Rex tour, so theyve
far away from Mick Fleetwoods drums, which is
obviously broken out of that melee but
just like it used to be, the way he uses tom-tom.
anyway, they were very good.
Little Feat have always intrigued me. Theyve
Other bands? I saw the group whats that
never really got their just desserts for what they
one with the 15-year-old drummer? Eater!
dont play, rather than for what they do play. Id
Well, a lot of people need to go home and do
like to see which way Mike Heron goes next,
their homework. I mean, I play guitar on four
because that album was much better. He seemed
tracks on our albums but I wouldnt dare play
a little rigid and I think hell loosen up a little bit.
on stage. When all the shoutings over and its
Lots of varying styles appeal to me. Theres
just down to music and pulling people in who
one track over here by a group called Kansas that hasnt even come out in
are going to sit through it, then Ill be there to see it.
England, which is a big hit single here. If they have a good record company
As a basic movement its good, but I wish the music was more original
in England you should be hearing it soon, and its a good un I think
and was moving on a stage. The Stranglers, for example, sound like an
theyre probably a bit like bands like Boston, who have one good song on
English Doors pre-LA Woman. So that doesnt do much for me or anyone
every album! And without blowing our own trumpet too much Dave
else, really.
Edmunds is great [he is signed to Swan Song, Zeppelins management
The intensity and the excitement I do like, because I never forget the
stable]. Bit of a loony, but really, really good.
first time I saw the Small Faces and The Who, when I was at school. It was
that very thing that made me go, YEAH and I rushed to the barbers and
got a French crew or whatever they were called, the right mod haircut.
ecause he sees so much genuine talent around, Plant seems
So I know what all thats about, rushing around getting a parka and
to cast a weary, if not impatient, eye on the new wave-cumimmediately getting chrome side panels for your scooter, and belonging
punk movement which has gripped the nation for the past year.
again, cos I was just a bit too young for the drape jackets. I understand all
First off, he said he did not feel competitive towards any of the
that. Everyone needs something to hang on to a little bit, on some level of
established names, no matter what was said. In the early days, I guess
mass-entertainment when-the-work-is-done-what-are-we-gonna-do?
we were in competition a little, when Beck and Ronnie Wood and Rod
As long as everybody doesnt go overdosing on leapers again, its fine.
Stewart and Mickey Waller and Nicky Hopkins were on the road,
But I go to a lot of soccer matches [Plant is a rabid Wolves supporter]
because Jeff Beck had come out of The Yardbirds and Jimmy had, and
and I see another element of youth and that really frightens me. We have
there was that interplay. But Jimmys my mate, and I can tell you none
to make sure that the music doesnt dance hand in hand with the shed
of this competitiveness came from him, even though it seemed to
boys, because if the two got together, that music could do just as much
make all the going-out-together-for-pleasure with other musicians an
damage as Chelsea losing 3-1.
uncomfortable thing.
So provided the music really has got some content so that the kids
But once we started going off, musically, on our own, things settled
really get off on it, and they wait for certain numbers to come and they
down and we could mix easily with anyone because theres no
really enjoy em then its worked, and its the next step. Then itll be
competition. I dont mean that to sound how it probably does, big-headed,
but with all good individual acts, like say the Stones, we are on our own.
only a matter of time before youre asking them after a nine-year career
I saw The
Damned and
found them
thrilling
1977
a p r i l J U NE
Jimmy Page in the

US in 1977, playing
a Gibson EDS-1275
double-neck guitar
what they think of this and that. But youll only be asking these punk-rock
bands or new-wave bands or whatever if they vary what theyre doing,
because theres no staying power in staying the same.
hatever the taunts of Zeppelin as a tasteless machorock tank, its impossible to talk to their singer without
forming a real appreciation of his love for the music, which
balances the slightly unacceptable doomy image of the band. On stage
he comes over with venomous bite and little real heart, and in print
hes apt, perhaps, to sound glib. But in person, with the barriers down,
hes what you and I describe as a good chap.
I put it to him that he did not sell sex on stage as did some of his
contemporaries in hard-rock singing, but that he relied largely on music
instead of posing surely the antithesis of what was required and expected
of a true rocknroll vocalist? I suppose that when I wear a Wolverhampton
Wanderers shirt, thats hardly sexual, but I still read a lot of things saying
Im sexually doing this and sexually looking that on the stage.
If any of my movements appear sexual, then they are really just
accessories to the music at that point in time. I get quite heatedly involved
with whats going on musically, and invariably Im right in front of John
Pauls equipment or Jimmys. Im concentrating on what Im listening
to and I move accordingly. There are movements I do all the time,
regularly, but if I was going to start thinking about how I was going to
appear, I might take myself a little too seriously in the wrong direction.
So he did not regard himself as a solo attraction or personality asset to
Zeppelin? Oh God, no. Im a member of a band. I remember reading once
something John Entwistle said about, There go Zeppelin again, saying
how theyre one big happy family and theyll never break up, and weve
heard all this before. But all those critics should realise that I have no vocal
accelerations or movements. They are all inspired by the music around me
and the knowledge that I can do it anyway and want to push it a bit farther.
And that can only come by playing with people who surprise you.
Like Jimmys solo tonight in No Quarter it was just fantastic, very well
constructed in such a manner, different from before, so that I cant help but
respond differently to that. So that I can never see myself projecting myself
as the one who does the vocals while the other three play the music.
His greatest stimulant was the instrumental work of the others.
I cant see it changing dramatically, either. Im the guy who puts the
words in. No part of my job is to overshadow the music. Im not a symbol
or anything. The only reason that could change it is if, character-wise, we
started drifting apart, and then, to keep things together, Id have to look
elsewhere for stimulation.
bob gruen
And was that imminent? Oh no, no. Bonzo and I are getting on better
now than we ever have done. Weve only had one fight on this tour!
Still, he wished he could sing like Steve Marriott. There were many
moods to Zeppelins music, he insisted, and he couldnt think of one
single singer who was his inspiration from the same level as the heavier
stuff right through to Stairway To Heaven.
But I could never be compared with Steve Marriott, because hes too
good, unfortunately. He has got the best white voice, for sheer bravado
and balls. How he applies it to his career is neither here nor there, but he is
the master of white contemporary blues. He came down to some of our
rehearsals in London before this tour, and to me, the two of us singing
Muddy Waters songs was almost as hair-raising as our first gig.
Thats the dynamism of my vocalism, which I do touch on occasionally.
Its only one aspect, although Steve is the best at what he does. On the
more mellow side, there are a lot of people who can control their voices in
such a way that makes it pleasurable to the ear. At one point, Jesse Colin
Young had that ability, when The Youngbloods were at their best, on
Elephant Mountain and things like that. Lowell George I do like, and
when he sings in a subdued manner hes very good.
Since Plants musical roots are steeped in his love of the blues, I
wondered if he was especially conscious of this debt to the American
heritage, and whether, as a result, he thought that the USA saw a different
kind of Zeppelin performance from that enjoyed by other countries.
Right now, America is getting a rebirth from us, like the capital letter of
a new paragraph.
But when they return to England later this year with a concert, would
they be saying, Look, weve been away, but this is the best we can do?
Earls Court was a peak, Alexandra Palace a disaster, with shocking
sound, but right now he felt they were hitting it again. This is probably
traceable to the fact that, when working away from home, they
concentrated more on intense working.
Nobody comes up and taps you on the shoulder to involve you in
anything that isnt related to work when youre on the road in America.
This is solely work. No side effects. Whereas if youre travelling from home
to a gig in England, you tend to come out differently on stage, maybe
youre more relaxed but whatever, youre not wound up for work like in
America, where youre in a hotel and theres all this security round us and
you can feel a kind of tension.
So you get out on that stage knowing that thats the only release you
can possibly have, cos youre here to work, and WHOOSH! And after the
gig, no jingle jangles or going anywhere, just back to the hotel, put on the
Elmore James albums, and unwind that way.
led zeppelin
Whereas in England, working from a set base and doing a gig, going
home again, its different. Of course, if we did just an acoustic set back in
England it would probably be our finest hour! Nice and mellow and
gentle. But theres a kind of an excitement in an American audience that
belongs only to an American audience, and events during the concert
which you can pick up on tend to make your reactions to them, through
the music, that much more adamant.
Theres a lot of mishandling of kids, for instance, by the authorities,
and there are a lot of kids without manners who dont contemplate their
neighbour at all so that there is all this interplay which youre aware of.
Whereas at an English concert it goes on the way it starts off. The
enthusiasm builds, but its always retained inside that composure.
Yet he was angry at the stupid behaviour of many of the fans at Zeppelin
concerts who chucked dangerous fireworks about as a mark of
uncontrolled zeal. Rockets and sparklers and all sorts of other bizarre
fireworks might make for a pretty display, but when theyre hurtling on to
the control panel and get dangerously close to the stage and who knows?
presumably hurt some innocent fan somewhere, its a scary sight, and
thankfully missing from British rock gigs.
Granted that Zeppelin cant be held totally responsible for the sort of
audiences they attract, or for their behaviour, I put it to Plant that these
dodgy firecracker scenes, combined with the ever-present, depressing
sight of thousands of kids colliding with walls as they walked around
during Zep shows the victims of cheap wine and downers, maybe was
a high price to pay for the kind of excitement he enjoyed. He agreed, but
said a heavy-handed appeal to people to cool it wasnt advisable. Yes, the
firework scene indoors was worrying to him, because, eventually, it had
to result in someone getting hurt. But the best way he knew to deal with
the situation was not to lecture, but to say sshhhh and hope
In the end, its got to be a case of reaching out on a personal level to the
guy whos sitting there, about to do something silly, and persuading him
not to, and that listening to the music is the best way of enjoying the show.
The firework situation in the big arena of America was not so bad as it
was, he continued. It was essential to get through on a friendly basis and
try to get people around the idiots to slow down the firework action.
This was his only method. It usually worked.
Difficult, I suggested, urging cool logic on to
kids zonked out of their skulls on booze and
drugs. Difficult, but one of the responsibilities
we have. All these things go with the excitement
of the moment, I guess, but why people go
around armed with firecrackers is beyond me.
I find it disturbing, because obviously
somebody is going to come off the worst.
There are some towns in the Midwest where
they have whats called festival seating, which
means no seating, the first-come-first-served
effect. So you get people whove been queuing
all afternoon and theyre the first in. By the
third number, say by the time we reach
Nobodys Fault But Mine, theres this great
milling of people and its a bit chaotic. I have to
spend about 30 minutes trying to convince these folk that it would be
much better for us and them if they had some semblance of order.
It usually worked. It was difficult not to sound tactless, because the band
was, after all, playing for thousands of people who had been waiting to see
them for a long time. It could have an unsettling effect on the music, too.
Worst of all is the realisation that if the mob scenes continue, and
people are milling around in a crush, somebody is going to get hurt and
hit the deck. It is a constant worry.
audiences build up from clubs to concerts to gigantic arenas and you

wonder how far you should go. My own feeling is that you should play it
very cool. A lot hangs on the balance struck, the relationship between the
guy at the front of that microphone and 20,000 people, and Ive learned to
soft pedal very carefully.
In the beginning you tend to try to channel their enthusiasm and build
it the right way, you tend to manipulate the crowd a little bit but its a
positive manipulation. Its not a case of, Lets have a riot, and fuck the
cops. You have to go the reverse, gentle way: try to take it this way, folks,
because this is the best way to enjoy it.
No, the feeling of power is a big NO in the rulebook. Anyway, on stage
we rely on each other so much and if that was to come out of any one of us,
the other three would jump on the one and say, Come on, you might kid
two people, but you aint kidding three!
But did Plant concede that as the singer he held the balance of power, in
the time-honoured tradition, as against, say, Jimmy Page, who ironically
had the vision of Led Zeppelin and formed the band in 1968?
Well, said Robert diplomatically, Zeppelin was not that kind of band.
Mick might be the Stones leader, so you could ask him that one, but ours
is, er well, more of a co-operative band. Does that answer the question?
Not really.
Well, thats all youre gonna get! (Smiles) What else shall we discuss?
How about the danger that Zeppelin were now so pre-eminently
successful that they did not need to work hungrily any more? Albums
selling by the million and concerts of unprecedented statistics surely
blunted their need to work so hard in every sense, crowds would go
bananas whatever they sang.
I dont accept that at all. On every level, our fans seduce us to bring
out the best work we can produce, and as for getting blas just because
weve made money like the punk-rock people say we have become
unreachable this isnt true, and no genuine musician who began in the
clubs could get like that if his origins were pure.
If youd felt the magic in my mind when I first got back on that stage in
Dallas six weeks back, or the magic Im gonna feel, and the rest of us will
feel, when the next album comes out and its the best we can do and we
like it No, we havent got lazy or anything.
Like I said, the only way we could have
problems in this band is if our characters shape
differently over the next few years and none of
us has total control over directions our
individual personalities will take.
But right from the time Jimmy Page came
up to see me in the Midlands and said he was
gonna form this band, way back in 67, he and
I have known that were such different
characters that were good for each other.
Were totally different individuals. So no, were
not ever gonna take easy ways out.
Did he expect that band to be this big, right
from the start? I didnt know what this big was!
I mean, the Band Of Joy was a little baby band
and its way back in the past, but that was
always enjoyable as well. There are so many connotations to being big.
I dont think I can yet properly relate to the magnitude of the band,
although I guess its nearly as big as sliced bread.
And in the beginning, did he yearn to be famous, to face multithousand audiences? Its been said that these shows are events rather
than concerts, and I suppose that is true. But whats the option? I guess we
must carry a little bit of a legend with us, and you dont have to over-try, or
it will come over clinical, clear-cut and jumpy.
We have to bring out our very best all the time, because kids have a
right to expect that, but we dont have to produce it in a stiff-upper-lip way
or it comes out the wrong kind of tight. Its got to be Tight But Loose. Thats
probably the title of the next album.
When would that appear? We havent even started thinking about it
constructively yet. Were hoping to do a summer show and make a mark on
England, and maybe well be working on the album in the autumn. Then
again, after this marathon American tour we might all want to go home
and lie horizontal for a while, or lean against the apple tree. Ray Coleman
I mean, when
I wear a
Wolves shirt
thats hardly
sexual
lant seemed aware, yet wary, of the special power invested

in a rock singer of his stature. He believed it would be dangerous
and irresponsible to use his personal strength as a rallying
cry for whatever he wanted to be done. Whether he was adopting
this attitude because of his previously stated belief that he was
merely a musician doing the words was difficult to perceive, but
anyway I asked how he reconciled not wanting to be the frontman
with being the one who did the announcing, and whether he wished
he was bereft of power.
I got over that power thing about seven years ago,
be answered carefully. Everybody goes through
that Where do I stand in all this? scene when their
1977
a p r i l J U NE
The only
group
godlis
TELEVISION arrive with a classic

album, Marquee Moon, which
makes New York the backdrop
to a romantic/spiritual quest.
Every performance should
attempt to go beyond
yourself, says leader
Tom Verlaine. To
enter a new field
of experience.
Television in 1977:
(lr) Fred Smith,
Tom Verlaine,
Richard Lloyd
and Billy Ficca
1977
a p r i l J U NE

ELEVISION, whOSE rEcENt tour of Britain
established them as one of the most unique and
exciting American bands of the 70s, made their public
debut in March 1974, at the Townhouse Theatre
a small viewing theatre in New York that had been
engaged for the event by the groups manager and
patron, Terry Ork (to whom, incidentally, Marquee Moon is dedicated).
Richard Lloyd recalls the occasion: It was hilarious. We rented the
theatre and went around asking people we knew to come down to see the
band and give us some quotes that we could put in the papers. The place
seated maybe 88 people and I guess it was full. I dont know how we
managed it.
I couldnt describe the music. It was just crazy. We were so wacky in
those days. We used to fall over a lot on stage and, like, we didnt have
anything. Literally.
Televisions lineup at this time was Lloyd (electric guitar), Billy Ficca
(drums), Tom Verlaine (electric guitar) and Richard Hell (bass).
Ficca, Verlaine (ne Miller) and Hell (ne Myers) had attended high
school together in Delaware. Verlaine and Hell were, from all accounts,
particularly close (though their relationship was to end bitterly and
precipitate an extended feud). They shared an interest in literature, art
and modern poetry and music, and craved an escape from the stifling
parochialism of their environment (in fact, legend has it that they made
one abortive run for freedom which ended with their arrest).
Verlaine remains elusive about his musical activities in Delaware,
admitting only that he and Ficca played together with various individuals
in a series of short-lived, apparently experimental bands.
Verlaine, having decided that New York would be the most conducive
environment in which to work and live, finally arrived in that city in
August 1968. For three years he merely enjoyed the experience and
atmosphere of living in the city, working in the Strand bookstore and
hanging out in fashionable artistic circles.
In the early 70s he began composing songs, and by the time he
embarked upon a tentative solo career on the New York folk circuit he
had already composed several of the songs that have since been
recognised as classics in Televisions repertoire, including the beautiful,
hallucinatory Venus.
Verlaine vividly remembers his first public performance in New York:
Id been thinking about it for some time. I had these songs and I had a
guitar. I just thought, Fuck it, Ill do it. One Sunday afternoon, I went
down to this club and played for 15 minutes. I just wanted to find out what
it was really like, and something happened to me and it occurred to me
that this was the direction I should follow.
Verlaine decided that his songs
could be best expressed in a group
context, and with Richard Hell and
Billy Ficca he formed the Neon Boys.
As Billy Ficca explains elsewhere,
the groups existence was
prematurely terminated through
lack of work and financial support.
Nevertheless, Verlaine and Hell
began collecting the material that
would form the basic repertoire of
the original Television: the material,
in fact, that was premiered that
night at the Townhouse Theatre
and would be heard over the next
two years, by fluctuating audiences
at CBGB, Maxs Kansas City and any other
New York haunt where the group could
secure a gig.
Among these songs were Verlaines
Venus, of course, Friction, an early
arrangement of Marquee Moon (which,
in its original version ran to some 20 verses)
and the as-yet-unrecorded Double
Exposure and Hard On Love (mentioned
by Richard Williams in his column last
January). Hell contributed a brace of his
apparently off-the-wall ditties, including
michael putland / getty
his disappointing single Blank Generation (a classic, apparently, in its

original form), Love Comes In Spurts and Fuck RocknRoll.
It was this version of Television that was produced by Eno for a tape for
Island Records. That companys head of A&R at the time was Richard
Williams, whod been impressed by the group in New York and was
interested enough in their future to recommend them to Brian Eno.
The sessions, however, were aborted after protracted disagreements
between Verlaine and Eno.
I think Eno was too individual, Verlaine explains. We heard different
things in the music. Maybe what he got on tape was a realistic sound for
the band at the time, but his ideas were incompatible with mine. Hed get
something down and Id listen to it and Id say, Whats THAT? It shouldnt
sound like THAT. Do THIS to it. And hed tell me that hed change it. And
hed go off, but he just wouldnt change it. Hes a real clever guy.
If Verlaine was dissatisfied with the recorded sound of Television even
though he suggests it was an accurate reflection of the group as it stood
he might possibly have recognised some of the musical limitations of the
group; particularly the shortcomings of Richard Hells bass playing.
Lloyd recalls that Hell responded reluctantly to Verlaines suggestion
that he play bass in Television (it was Hell, incidentally, who gave the
group its name), and he accepted the offer only after displays of great
enthusiasm and encouragement. Whatever, it was decided that he was
relatively inadequate and he was replaced in 1975 by former Blondie
bassist Fred Smith.
Hell went off to join ex-New York Dolls Johnny Thunders and Jerry
Nolan in the original Heartbreakers (now resident, with a different
frontline, in London). He now leads his own band the Voidoids.
Television, with Verlaine firmly in command after Hells departure,
continued to play around New York, picking up critical accolades for the
music. Their perseverance was rewarded in 1976 with the offer of a
contract to Elektra/Asylum, which Verlaine, who had displayed a rare
caution previously, accepted.
Andy Johns, whose previous credits include engineering stints with the
like of the Stones and Zeppelin, co-produced the groups debut album,
Marquee Moon, with Tom Verlaine.
I wanted someone who has no preconceptions about our music, who
could be relied upon to get a good sound, says Verlaine. I wouldnt even
send Andy Johns any tapes of the band. Hed never heard us until we went
into the studio. I didnt want him to know anything about us. That way,
I figured we could avoid arguments. Since he didnt know what exactly
we were supposed to sound like, he really responded to what I wanted.
Om VErLaINE, thE enigmatic leader of Television, has been
variously described as a potential rocknroll genius and the
most original and exciting new writer and guitarist to have
emerged in American music in this decade. Alternatively, there are
those who subscribe to the rather less complimentary opinion that
Verlaine is an arrogant and conceited individual, a pretentious and
I wouldnt even send

[Marquee Moon
co-producer]Andy Johns
any tapes of the band: Tom
Verlaine at Elektra Records,
NYC, February 27, 1978
television
nocturnal underworld filtered through a romantic vision

thats at once confused by the potential violence of the
environment and yet curiously seduced by the darkness.
In some ways, it seems to me, Verlaine and Television
are direct heirs of The Velvet Underground. However,
where Lou Reed portrayed New York with a graphic,
documentary clarity, Verlaine deals more exclusively with
May 28, 1977:
atmosphere, evoking startling images of metropolitan
Verlaine on stage
anguish, loneliness and despair allied to a characteristic
at Hammersmith
romantic yearning for spiritual perfection in the face of
Odeon, playing an
Ampeg guitar made
this darkness.
of clear Plexiglas
Thats very much the case, says Verlaine. Living in
New York you somehow become very night-orientated.
Especially in the summers, when it gets so hot and the
streets get so dirty Ive always thought of New York as an inspiration. It
facile talent and a paranoid egomaniac whos callous and vicious
isnt for many people, but it is for me. Obviously, it was for Lou Reed, too.
toward those with whom he comes into contact. Hes also said to have
I think we capture different aspects of the city, but there is some sort of
a megalomaniac streak that would reduce Hitler to the status of a
connection between Television and The Velvet Underground. It goes
shambling introvert.
beyond any musical connection, although I think we share the same sort
If you believe in yourself, people usually attack you, he says, defending
of energy. New York is a really concentrated microcosm of emotions, you
himself against these charges, most of which have been made by his
know, and atmosphere. The songs do deal mostly with atmosphere, yes;
former associate Richard Hell.
Those are the things Richard said about me when he quit the band,
I think thats what art is all about
Like, on stage, you dont have ideas so much as feelings; a sense of
he adds wearily, obviously tired of the feud. Its spiteful. If it wasnt for
whats happening around you. I think thats an important part of the
me, Richard Hell would never have had his name in the papers. He wasnt
performance, responding to the atmosphere and every performance
about to go start a rocknroll group. He just had a friend who played
should be some attempt to go beyond yourself, or get in touch with
guitar. He couldnt possibly have played in any other band. We let him
something beyond yourself. To enter a totally new field of experience.
play with us and we hoped that hed improve musically as we developed.
To me, thats what life is all about, too. An opportunity to enjoy new
Eventually we decided that we needed someone better.
experiences. And its all tied together music, writing, living Its all
Im sure that there are other people who share that image of me. The
about experience, learning, growing.
kind of people that hang around CBGB. People that Ive never said a word
I know that as we become more successful were going to be restricted,
to. And because I dont go over and talk to them, they start to think that
but success is something so abstract that I cant really think about it in
youre being aloof and distant. But Im not the kind of person who enjoys
specific terms. Well just have to figure out a way of circumventing the
that kind of socialising.
restrictions Its sort of a problem already.
It is, in fact, not difficult to imagine Verlaines manner antagonising
those who might test his tolerance. There is about him, for all his polite
calm, an impatient air; talking about his adolescence in Delaware, for
hErE waS NOthINg before Television, asserts the
instance, he expresses an intolerance of the provincial atmosphere in
modest, quietly humorous Richard Lloyd, who forms, with
which he grew up. He missed in that environment the excitement and
Tom Verlaine, one of the most exciting electric guitar
artistic activities that he imagined would abound in, say, New York.
partnerships ever to hit this planet. I always had this feeling that there
Indeed, such was his impatience and desire to become part of a more
was only going to be one group that Id get into and the vibe would be
exciting world that he decided that he would high-tail it out of Delaware
right. Television was the only group. Is the only group.
and into New York at the earliest opportunity.
Lloyd would ask us to believe that his musical career began, at the age
Richard Hell had been living a year in the city when Verlaine, then 17
of two, with the tentative exploration of the sound of a 24-key plastic
years old, moved into his apartment. It was an exciting time. It was a
piano, the property of his parents: Then, one day, one of the keys broke.
great experience, meeting people who had a certain atmosphere about
So I demolished it. My parents wouldnt replace it.
them that you just didnt find in Delaware.
His interest in music, thereafter, waned considerably. He makes it
He had, at the time, vague plans for forming a band, although he had no
emphatically clear that he was not particularly enamoured of the white
specific ideas about the style of music he would pursue. That was the
American pop music of the early 60s that daily infiltrated his life,
first idea I had, he continues, but when I got to
bouncing over the airwaves in his native
New York, the place just excited me so much that
Pittsburgh, and, later, New Jersey, where his
I didnt think seriously about doing anything.
parents moved when he was 17.
I thought it was all incredibly dull. The radio
I was just taking in everything; I didnt start
was full of slush. It was, at least, something to
writing for a couple of years after I got there.
listen to, but I hated most of it.
Although, as he admits, he was infatuated
The American release of the early Beatles
with New York, he was discriminating enough
to recognise the superficiality of much that
and Stones albums excited him rather more, he
surrounded him. There were lots of different
recalls (his first inclination was toward drums,
cliques, he remembers. People seem to form
and he remembers bashing away in a basement
schools there very fast. Like all the poets would
to Meet The Beatles and the Stones 12 x 5), but it
get together in various groups, and develop
was the first albums by Hendrix, the Floyd and
similar styles and share the same ideas and the
the Dead that inspired him to learn guitar.
same girlfriends. I dont know if incest is the
Those records took me for a loop, he says,
right word, but it got to the point where everyone
as if recalling some momentous event. It was
was just patting each other on the
through those records that I first
back and congratulating each other
discovered real electric music.
all the time.
Simultaneously, he was drawn to
He has still a romantic vision, he
blues guitarist like Elmore James,
confesses: it remains for him a city
Buddy Guy, JB Hutton and Johnny
of intrigue, mystery and a strange
Shines (an associate of Robert
beauty. Indeed, much of the music
Johnson): When you pick up an
on Marquee Moon betrays this
instrument, youve got to start
infatuation with the city: theres
someplace, he explains, and blues
licks are some of the easiest places
a romantic evocation of the
gus stewart / getty
We let
Richard Hell
play with us
and hoped
hed improve
1977
a p r i l J U NE
Michael Putland/getty
March 21, 1977: Television

perform at New Yorks
Bottom Line club
to start from. But I didnt really concentrate on developing the influence

of those people.
Inevitably, he attempted to start a series of bands; every attempt,
however, was an abortive failure, he claims. I was just playing my guitar
and waiting for the right group. Id put together a few bands whod play
maybe one gig and disappear. But I had no plans for any of them, because
I knew that they werent going anywhere.
He drifted to Boston, jamming infrequently with various local bands
he does not care to mention their names before returning for a short
time to New York City. One day I went out for a sandwich, came back to
where I was living and found that my guitar had been stolen. The only
clothes I had were in the guitar case, so I had nothing. I figured that, for
once in my life, I was unencumbered by any possessions. So I went to
California. Just split for a year. I didnt have a guitar for six months, until
I raised enough money to buy one in San Francisco.
There he began to practise on his guitar all day and all night for
months perfecting an individual style. He had no specific strategy for
discovering compatible musicians and forming a band at this time. As he
says, he was carefully biding his time, waiting for the right circumstances
in which to commit himself to a band possessed of the vision and
originality for which he was searching.
In 1974, Richard was back in New York, living in Chinatown with Terry
Ork (later to become patron and manager of Television), who one night
persuaded him to trundle down to a club called Reno Sweeneys to see
a guitarist called Tom Verlaine, who was then performing as a solo artist
following the relative disintegration of the Neon Boys.
Verlaine, Lloyd remembers, played three songs, including early
versions of Venus and Double Exposure (the latter has yet to appear
on record, though a demo tape, recorded with Brian Eno, exists).
Lloyd was enthralled by Verlaine, and after a brief conversation it was
clear to both that they shared similar ideas and concepts: I just thought
that there was something about what Tom was doing that was right. It
struck a responsive chord. We got together and played, and started to
work on ideas for Television.
At that time we didnt have a specific idea of what wed sound like. It was
a madhouse; wed play and writhe on the floor with our guitars, stand on
our heads and laugh hysterically.
Lloyd recalls Television rehearsing for at least six hours a day, five days
a week, during this period: We all realised that we had to improve. If
you realise that you are not technically proficient on an instrument,
that shouldnt stop you from playing. But you have to be aware of the
limitations of not being proficient.
You have to need to play to spend, like, four or five years learning about
your instrument. You have to work at it constantly. You have to be
dedicated. Like, there must be a million guitarists and a million bands,
and if youre going to be heard as an individual youve got to work and be
prepared to spend all that time learning. I mean, its not the kind of thing
you can venture into casually.
The extraordinary empathy that exists between Verlaine and himself,
Lloyd asserts, can be attributed to this period of intensive rehearsal,
though he emphasises that on stage especially, their musical relationship
is by now an intuitive affair.
There are, he says, some songs during which he will take the principal
solos as a matter of expediency; then there are others where Verlaine and
he will simply realise that one or the other has the momentum to carry
through an unscheduled solo, in which case the other guitarist twill ease
back to a secondary role.
If we hadnt spent that time together, he says, we wouldnt know
what we were playing. Of course it was an important time. Theres never
been any ego problems; we both have enough to play to keep us both
happy as guitarists.
red Smith, who contributes the sinuous basslines that
underpin the guitar adventures of Tom Verlaine and Richard
Lloyd, admits that it was the British bands of the mid-60s that
first inspired him to play rocknroll.
Like Lloyd, he confesses to finding little about which to enthuse in
American music immediately prior to the transatlantic ascendancy of The
Beatles, Rolling Stones, Kinks and The Zombies who he remembers with
particular affection whose individual styles were a profound influence
on the American bands formed in the slipstream of their success.
He recalls, with amusement, his early high-school bands like the Poor
Boys and the Auroras, whose respective repertoires consisted of versions,
invariably inept, of current chart hits (usually British records, he
remembers), and later, psychedelic extravaganzas and anything we
could figure out how to play. We just used to copy everybody. If we could
play it, we played it no matter what it was.
He played guitar then rhythm guitar. I never played lead. I couldnt
play fast enough and only turned to bass six years ago after failing an
audition for a gig as a guitarist.
I hadnt been in a group for a while; Id sort of given up. I couldnt get the
guitarists gig; the group just wanted a bass player. I felt like playing again,
so I got a left-handed Japanese bass and turned it upside down and I liked
it. It was like learning a whole new instrument.
television
It was with a group called Captain Video. I played with them for a
while; it was around 1971. Leon Russell was big and we had an organ
player, so we did a lot of his numbers. It was nothing special, but I didnt
care. We couldve played anything and it wouldnt have bothered me
because I was just learning how to play. At the time I didnt even think
about what I wanted to hear from the bass.
When I first started playing I wondered if I should sound like the guy
from The Byrds or McCartney. I just played what sounded natural and
comfortable. If it sounded right I played it. I didnt sit around and study
the styles of any other bass players. I didnt want to have their styles
crammed into me.
Im not the kind of person who puts on a record and listens to the
bass player. I listen to the group. Im more interested in songs than
instrumentalists. The bass as an instrument, I find, has its limitations.
The bass players I like are subtle and play things that fit the song.
I dont like to hear bass players that really stick out. Like, someone like
Bill Wyman you dont notice at first, but if you suddenly catch what hes
playing itll send a chill up your spine because its so right.
Before joining Television in 1975 (when he replaced Richard Hell),
Smith played with Blondies Deborah Harry, first in a band called The
Stilettoes, then in the original Blondie. The Stilettoes featured three girl
singers and Fred found that fun. It was at the time that the New York Dolls,
those tragic figures of the New York scene, were being recognised
internationally, and NYC was alive with glitter and outrage combos
hoping to emulate the Dolls success.
It was all glitter bands, Smith recalls, Thats what was happening. It
was a lot of fun. It was exciting. There were all these groups forming on the
Lower East side. There was CBGB and Club 82 opening. There was
something happening. It was more fun that music. The Stilettoes, like
most of the other groups, were probably more into presentation than
music, but the girls wrote a few good songs. I enjoyed it.
The original Blondie lineup he describes as a sketch of the group that
toured here with Television. It was rougher, he says. We worked a lot
and just hoped that something would develop. It did eventually, but Id
left by that time.
We were a little erratic, you know. We had this drummer who kept
passing out, hed just collapse. A weak guy. Kept passing out all the time.
We used to open for Television at a lot of gigs, and I liked them a lot and
I knew all their songs, and then Tom asked me to join them because
Richard was on his way out. I knew that I had to go on and do something
new, and joining Television was something new, a challenge. I had to join,
you know.
Televisions escalation to prominence and popularity in America and
Europe is viewed casually by Smith; having struggled for so long in New
York, he is not easily infatuated by the groups
present success, and the personal glory that will
inevitably attend that success he is less than
enamoured of. Im just enjoying playing, he
says simply. Im enjoying touring. The whole
thing. I like it. It hasnt been as hard as I had been
told it would be. It isnt easy, but hotel rooms are
better than my own apartment, you know.
He is modest about his own contributions
to Televisions unique sound: Jesus, he says
when the question is posed. I think, more
than anything, I contribute to the time of the
band. I keep time for the whole band to enable
Richard and Tom to go off on solos whenever
and wherever they want to go. I keep the
bottom together. Yeah, like an
anchor. Its important.
When I heard the record for the
first time, I could hear how much
the band had developed.
as much. Nevertheless, he responds politely, with charm and humour,

to questions about his personal and musical history.
A friend of Tom Verlaine since 1965 (they attended the same high school
in Delaware), Ficca has been playing drums from the age of 12. Although
he played in the inevitable series of high-school rocknroll bands, his
principal interest was jazz. Pop music he found weak and anaemic. He
listened intently to his fathers collection of Gene Krupa records. His
brother played trumpet and was an admirer of Maynard Ferguson,
whose drummer, Rufus Jones, he remembers as an adolescent influence.
Jazz wasnt a meek music, he asserts. It was very strong. I got tired of
a lot of rocknroll. I could never find anything to listen to on the radio,
except for one Baltimore station that played a lot of old jazz Django
Reinhardt, King Oliver, some Leadbelly.
The first bands I played in did mostly Stones numbers R&B, that
kind of thing. Then there was the freak-out period, he laughs.
Everybody took LSD and got stoned and played 27-minute songs in
double time. Music was so free then. Everything was swept away and we
started from scratch again. Everybody got pretty weird. People mellowed
out in the end, though.
It was during this period that he first played with Verlaine. They had
been introduced by a mutual friend and discovered that they shared the
same musical tastes and infatuations: We got together, he recalls, and
played some crazy stuff with different people. It was pretty far out. Not at
all commercial.
We couldnt get any work, you know. There werent too many people
in Delaware interested in that kind of crazy music. We just rehearsed,
worked out some material and played for ourselves really. Then that
disintegrated and I did a couple of gigs with a kind of blues group with
horns, you know.
Played with a couple of bands like that. Soul bands, really. I enjoyed it.
We played mostly around Delaware then Tom invited me to New York.
He and Richard Hell were trying to form a band. Yeah, the Neon Boys. Just
the three of us. It never really evolved into anything.
We spent all our time rehearsing. There were no real gigs. Nothing was
happening, and a friend of mine from Delaware invited me to join this
group. They were a kind of pop/soul/blues/funk group. It seemed that it
might be fun, so I went off for maybe a year. I played my final gig with
them in Cape Cod. It was at the end of the summer and we decided to take
a vacation. We just never got back together again.
By this time Verlaine and Hell had enlisted the talent of Richard Lloyd,
and on his return to New York, Ficca completed the original Television
lineup: Tom already had a lot of ideas for the band. I think Id have to say
that what were doing now is similar to what we were trying to do then.
The ideas have evolved and been refined. And, of course, were all more
proficient, individually, than we were then. We
understand each other and were closer now.
We can anticipate the direction someone might
suddenly follow and we can go after him.
But the energy is still the same. We never
want to lose that energy. We all think its
essential to keep that, because its something
the audience can respond to. Like when you first
hear us it might sound, you know a little
different, a little strange. I mean, I listen to a lot
of crazy music, so it all sounds natural to me, but
I think it might sound a little weird to someone
hearing us for the first time. Its not obvious
music. Its not straight-ahead rocknroll boogie
or whatever. At the same time its still very
physical music. It can shift you. It
doesnt just aim for the head.
The music has everything, I hope:
humour, anger, love, beauty and
tears. It should combine every
emotion. And we, as musicians,
should be able to express those
emotions. I said that I didnt want us
to lose any of the energy of the
original band, but I think technique
is very important. I mean, I can hear
sounds and textures in my head,
and it requires technique and skill
to get them out. Allan Jones
When you
first hear us it
might sound,
you know a
little strange
illy Ficca, a drummer

whose individual style
is marked by a rare
exuberance and, occasionally, by
a ferocious intensity, is, off stage,
surprisingly nervous, unassuming
and more than a little shy. An
initial encounter, at least, suggests
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Readers letters
1977
Ja n u a r y J une
MM JAN-JUN A Genesis fan laments, McLaren telegrams and Strummer explains.
Etymology in the UK
It seems strange that, with the

exception of a brief mention by
Michael Watts, no one has actually
paid much attention to the actual
meaning of the word punk.
I have always understood it to
mean a young man who would,
willingly or unwillingly, submit
to anal intercourse.
The word apparently had its
origin in prison, where the victim
was usually unwilling. Thereafter,
owing to societys peculiar
double-standard, the punk
was a despised and unwanted
person, similar in status to a
female tramp. Because no pride
of any kind could obviously be
attached to the term, punk is
one that the gay community has
never wanted. Interesting?
VALERIE WILMER, Balham,
London (MM Jan 1)
Genesis: its no joke
When it was
announced that
Peter Gabriel was
leaving Genesis, the question
uppermost in everybodys mind
was: Can they exist without
him? For, indeed, he was the
Genesis image with his strange
tales, macabre costumes and
eccentric behaviour on stage.
Now, two albums later, they
have shown that they are capable
of producing excellent music and
a stage act that stands up without
Peter Gabriel. However, in doing
so they have lost something that
was very important in creating
the Genesis persona of the first
five albums. Theyve lost their
sense of humour.
Compare tracks like Harold The
Barrel (Nursery Cryme), Suppers
Ready (Foxtrot) and The Battle
Of Epping Forest (Selling England
By The Pound) with anything from
Trick Of The Tail and Wind And
Wuthering. They still use the
technique of putting whimsical
little stories into song, with
beautiful, haunting music, but
there is nothing on either album
to give any relief from the
seriousness, which at times
becomes positively agonising.
I agree that, with the departure
of Gabriel and their reaching the
top of the first division, they are
bound to change and grow more
sophisticated. However, with this
increasing sophistication they are
going to start losing many younger
supporters. Having been a fan

ever since they played the Mad
Gin Mill at the Angel Hotel,
Godalming, in the early days, it
saddens me to think that they are
losing that certain eccentricity
which went a long way to making
Genesis what they are today.
M WREFOD-BUSH, Merrow,
Guildford, Surrey (MM Jan 15)
Beatles: oldies but goldies?
If EMI are to continue

repackaging Beatles material,
then why dont they use some
initiative and release an EP
consisting of the only tracks
otherwise unavailable from the
Yellow Submarine LP Hey
Bulldog, Altogether Now, Only
A Northern Song and Its All Too
Much, which Steve Hillage
recently revived? Such a record
would be more useful to the fans
than haphazard collections such
as Rock And Roll Music.
STEVE PARTRIDGE, Chorltoncum-Hardy, Manchester (MM Jan 1)
When I read that the ex-Beatles
were attempting to stop the
release of an album made before
their unprecedented rise to fame,
I felt I would have to write to
express my, and probably many
other fans, feelings on the subject.
As I see it, they are trying to stop
the disc on the grounds that it
would be derogatory to their
careers. Well, I cant think of
anything more derogatory to their
individual careers than Living In
The Material World (George),
Wings At The Speed Of Sound
(Paul/Wings) and Ringos
Rotogravure (Ringo). The reason

surely cant be that it would kill
sales of the up-and-coming EMI
live album, because why should
any of them care, as they are no
longer signed to EMI!
I am sure Beatle fans
everywhere would much rather
have previously unreleased
songs, (eg, Falling In Love Again,
I Remember You and To Know
Her Is To Love Her) than already
over-released tracks (eg, Ticket
To Ride, Cant Buy Me Love and
She Loves You), even if they are
unreleased versions.
MICHAEL RINFOUL, Banholm
View, Edinburgh (MM Apr 23)
The Clash write, right?
Right now youre on a 31 bus with

your mate, lighting up a fag. You
notice some pink-and-black
posters stuck on a wall in Kilburn.
You say, Fuck me, The Clash are
playing the Roundhouse Easter
weekend. Having sod all better
to do, you wander down the
Roundhouse, pay your two quid
and, blimey, whats this, The Clash
and Subway Sect dont turn up.
What happens? You get The
Boys, Generation X and hippie
John Cale, all on a duff PA. Being
a bit of a flash sod yourself, you
want to know whos conning you,
so here goes: 1) The Clash were
never contacted to play the
Roundhouse. 2) All posters and
ads stating The Clash were to play
were crap information.
Stay with us, wise up quick and
keep fighting. See you soon, kids.
JOE STRUMMER, The Clash
(MM, Apr 23)
1977
July sep tember
sEx Pistols, iAn dUry,

booMtown rAts,
MArC bolAn And MorE
August 18, 1977: a white

Cadillac hearse carrying
Elvis Presleys casket
leaves Graceland on its way
to Forest Hill Cemetery in
Memphis, Tennessee
Buried near
the grave of
his mother
MM AUG 27 Elvis Presley is laid to

rest. Celebrities pay their respects.
lvis was buried last week in the
Presley family vault near the grave of
his mother, after dying from heart
failure. An estimated 100,000 fans had
passed in mourning by his open coffin.
Among those who came to say farewell
to a legend were actors Burt Reynolds and
John Wayne, a one-time co-star and
friend Ann-Margret and Caroline
Kennedy, daughter of the late President.
The pallbearers at the funeral included
Joe Esposito, Presleys road manager, his
doctor Dr George Nichopoulos and his
record producer, Felton Jarvis. The
service was conducted by a friend of
Presleys: Ohio evangelist Rex Humbard.
Michael Ochs archives / Getty
1977
Ju ly s ep t ember
The Tom robinson

Band at londons
Marquee club,
october 1977
Boardroom drama
NME AUG 20 Musician/activist
Tom Robinson is signed to EMI.
He won
admiration
NME SEPT 24 On the brink of a comeback,
Marc Bolan is killed in a car accident.
arc Bolans lady, Gloria
Jones, had still not been told of
his death on Tuesday, when his
funeral took place at Golders Green. She
was still in shock after an operation on her
fractured jaw, but was said to be recovering
and resting comfortably. The couples
20-month-old son Rolan was being looked
after by Marcs parents.
Bolan died when the Mini in which he
was passenger, with Gloria at the wheel,
crashed into a tree in Barnes, South-West
London, last Friday morning. They were
returning home after a late meal at a West
End restaurant with Glorias brother,
Richard Jones, who was following behind
in his own car. The crash occurred at
a notorious accident
black spot, on the far side
of a hump-back bridge
and on a wet surface.
Bolan himself did not
drive and had never held
a licence. He had also
emerged from a selfconfessed period of drug taking and
hard drinking, sparked by his decline in
popularity and his divorce. He gave up both
drugs and drink when Gloria came into his
life, and was poised both mentally and
professionally for a major comeback.
The first step in his direction was his own
Granada TV series, which he completed
filming shortly before his death screening
of the final show, with the full consent of his
family, is next
Wednesday (28). His TV
producer Muriel Young
said this week, He won
the admiration of
everyone in the studio.
He really cared about his
show, his colleagues and
his music. And plans
were already being laid
for Marc and T Rex to headline a major tour

at the end of the year.
EMI Records were planning to release
a compilation album titled Solid Gold T Rex
on October 14, consisting of a dozen of his
hit singles which he had chosen himself. The
LP will still be coming out, but its possible
that the title may now be changed, and that
it will become a commemorative set. Bolans
publicist said there is a fair amount of new
T Rex material in the can, though there are
no immediate plans to issue any singles.
Bolans peak was in 1971-73 when, after
a relatively fruitless period fronting Johns
Children, he and Steve Took expanded their
Tyrannosaurus Rex duo into a quartet and
T Rex was born. They had a string of No 1
hits with Hot Love,
Get It On, Telegram
Sam and Metal Guru;
four No 2 successes with
Ride A White Swan,
Jeepster, Children Of
The Revolution and
Solid Gold Easy Action;
and four other Top 10 entries.
During that period, Bolan was one of the
hottest properties on the British scene. But
his success took a tumble when he became
a tax exile in America, where he was unable
to emulate his British achievements. There
followed a period in limbo, but as Bolan
started his fightback, he once again stood
on the threshold of the big time.
He headlined a short tour earlier this
year, with The Damned
as guest artists, but
he was hoping for
more substantial
developments in the
coming months. His
greatest ambition was
to have another No 1 hit,
but tragically it was
never to be realised.
Michael Putland/GettY; GuS SteWaRt/GettY
His greatest
ambition was to
have another No 1
he Tom Robinson band have been

signed by EMI Records, and the deal
could prove to be as controversial for
the company as its relationship with the
Sex Pistols was last year. A self-confessed gay,
Robinson distributes pamphlets at his concerts,
publicising such organisations as Rock Against
Racism, Spare Rib, the National Abortion
Campaign, Gay Switchboard and the Free
George Ince Campaign. Because of the causes
he openly supports, a number of venues have
previously been reluctant to book his band.
Already there is a minor boardroom drama
at EMI, he claims, because executives are
reluctant to release his homosexual anthem
Glad To Be Gay as a single. But the signing has
been interpreted as a political move by the
companys record division, who reputedly wish
to demonstrate their strength and prevent
boardroom intervention in artistic policy as
was the case during the Pistols farrago.
The Record Division was like a naughty dog
whod got a nice juicy bone with the Sex Pistols,
commented Robinson, but their master made
them drop it. Now theyve got another and
theyre growling.
EMIs press office refutes such speculation and
doesnt anticipate any objections being raised by
the board. We know what they stand for, said
publicist Tom Nolan. But more importantly,
this is a first-rate band. Its a signing completely
independent of any other consideration.
Regarded as one of the finest new talents in
rock, Robinson was just about to sign a deal
worth 96,000 when EMI swooped in force
at his recent show at Londons Brecknock.
Members of the A & R department then bettered
the offer made by Jet Records. But the financial
size of the deal, and the attention he has
attracted from a number of other record
companies, has left Robinson unimpressed.
It just means we can come off the dole and go
on 30 quid a week, he explained.
Robinson formed the band after leaving Caf
Society last October. Until March he was
contracted to Ray Davies Konk label and only
secured a release after publicly condemning
The Kinks leader for refusing to set him free. A
term of the release is that he pays Konk 10 per
cent of all recording advances and royalties for
the next two years.
His first release for EMI is to be a popular
stage number, Motorway, with Robinsons
dedication to Ince, I Shall be Released, on
the flip. It is expected that the label will release
Glad To Be Gay within a month of that, but
will not publicise the record.
J u ly september
1977
Ive enjoyed every minute
MM JULY 16 Sandy Dennys pregnancy has provided a break from the ordeal of songwriting.
Why do I have to put myself through it? she wonders. Why cant I relax a little bit more?
andy denny looked radiant. Yes, one is always
supposed to say that about ladies when theyre
pregnant, but in this case it was true. She lounged
back, relaxed and ebullient, on the over-stuffed sofa of the
Northamptonshire cottage where she lives with her
husband, Trevor Lucas.
With her baby due barely a month from now, she was
already beginning to talk about an autumn tour, and with
no sign at all of any frustration at having been off the road
for so long well over a year, in fact, since she and Trevor
left Fairport Convention.
To be honest, she said, Ive enjoyed every minute
of it, cos in many ways I really needed a break from the
business. Ive been in it up to my eyes for over 10 years,
virtually non-stop, though people dont realise it because
Im not hitting the headlines every day. But when youre
working for ten or 11 years with not much of a break, you
can go completely mad without realising it at the time. Its
taken me since last summer to get back to some sort of
sanity something I didnt even realise Id lost.
Now I feel I can renew my old
enthusiasm. For instance, last week I just
went and played the piano for about
three hours, all sorts of stuff, just for my
own enjoyment. It really felt fantastic.
Its the first time Ive done that, just out
of sheer enjoyment, not out of necessity
not having to learn something or write
something. I tell you what, it feels good
for the first time in years.
I think by the time that Im ready to go
back and work, which will be October or
November, I shall be ready to do it.
Obviously, theres a lot to go through
before then, with the baby and
everything, but this is how I feel now.
If I continue along the way I feel now
about my music, not about the business
but the music itself, I shall be much happier in my work

when I do return to it. In general, I feel that I must be
satisfied with myself. If Im not satisfied with the way that
Im doing something, how can I expect anyone else to be?
How can I make people feel that Im as good as I want them
to feel if I dont think I am anyway?
Everyone, when they review my records, seems to say
the same thing: another load of dirges. The trouble is that
one of the reasons I write those dirgey tunes is that I cant
move that fast on the piano. Im no Fats Waller, and thats
how it comes out, though its a real drag, I know.
I dont want to write miserable songs. Do you know how
I feel after Ive written a miserable, sad song? Something
thats really hit me and hurt me. I feel terrible. I go and sit
down and Im really upset by it. I always write on my own.
Its like a vicious circle, being on my own. I tend to
think of sad things and so I write songs that make me
feel even sadder. I sit down and I write something and it
moves me to tears almost. Im fed up with feeling like that.
Why do I have to put myself through it? Why cant I think
about other things, try and relax a little
bit more?
Im not really interested any more
in being heavy with people. Theres no
point, Ive just realised, because what
can I do? I cant do anything about
anything. What a terribly defeatist
attitude, you might say, but if I cant do
anything about the way things are, then
surely I can try to make people feel a
little better about it.
Youve got to let yourself branch out as
much as you possibly can, otherwise you
cant appreciate things if youre bigoted,
its a pain.
At long last, at least for a time, the
pain seems to have gone out of Sandys
life, and its a pleasure to see it. Colin Irwin
Im not really
interested any
more in being
heavy with people
Generation X
have abandoned
a scheduled gig at
Glasgows Zhivago
club this Thursday
(18), and will instead
play at the Paisley
Silver Thread Hotel.
The bands publicist
claims punk gigs
have been banned
by Glasgow City
Council. NME AUG 20
Suzi Quatro
has been invited to
read for the part of
Leather, a female
rocknroll singer in
the next Happy
Days series. Miss
Qs live album,
recently recorded in
Japan, is to be
released in the UK
at the end of the
year. NME AUG 20
Status Quo have
started recording
their next studio
album in Sweden.
The sessions were
delayed while
drummer John
Coughlan had an
operation for
appendicitis. The
band return to this
country in the
autumn for a major
tour. NME AUG 20
GuS SteWaRt / GettY; chRiS WalteR / GettY
sandy denny on
stage in autumn 1977,
during a Uk tour to
promote her final
album, Rendezvous
Motorheads
current UK tour was
cancelled last week
when drummer Phil
Taylor broke his
right hand in a brawl.
Taylor was injured
during a fight with a
roadie in a Plymouth
hotel, and will be
unable to play for at
least a month. But
the band hope to
reschedule the
abandoned dates in
late September as
part of another
extensive series of
British concerts.
The Count
Bishops, who were
playing support to
Motorhead, will now
headline at two
venues booked for
the tour. NME AUG 20
1977
ju ly s ep t ember
September 7, 1977:
backed by Herbie
Flowers, Tony
Newman and Dino
Dines, Bowie and
Bolan jam together
on the Marc show
Great fun
SHEILA ROCK/REX
h ThaTs reallY Polaroid! Youve

gotta keep the ending! David Bowie
rocked with laughter and Marc Bolan
wiped away the tears that had threatened to
turn his finest hour into a nightmare. The great
day when David and Marc were reunited for
a TV show will pass into the history books as
one of the funniest episodes never filmed.
Perhaps one should say never video-taped, for
the last show in the series Marc, put together by
Granada TV, turned out to be a drama of such
pathos and uproar that it made Coronation
Street seem dull, if thats at all possible. There
were tears, outbursts of swearing, bitter rows
and the breaking of lightbulbs when everything
seemed to go wrong when David joined his old
chum for rehearsals and recording at Granadas
Manchester studios last Wednesday.
The clash between old wave and new wave
was further heightened by the power of trade
unions and the congenital inability of rock
MM SEPT 17 David Bowie appears on Marc Bolans TV show

broadcast 12 days after The T Rex stars untimely death.
people to get it together in anything like

a normal, orderly fashion. It was 10 breaks
and split-second timing versus artistic
temperament and inexperience.
I thought it funny but Im sure producer
Muriel Young didnt, nor did the manager of
Generation X, who turned up three hours late
without any equipment, nor Barrie Masters and
his famous Rods, who never got to appear on
the show after waiting around for two days.
In the event, by the miracle of editing and
technical wizardry, the show will go out
complete with the Rods, and David making a
rare British television appearance, on all ITV
regions on Wednesday, September 28 at
4.20pm. But it would have been more exciting
if they had videoed the dramas taking place in
and around the studio.
Marc was in his element as a television star
and part-time artistic director. As one studio
boss was forced to ejaculate when Marc was
bellowing instructions, I dont know why

Im the floor manager. Said Marc, When
youve got your name up in lights, youve gotta
take responsibilities.
The show was born out of Marcs dream to be
a media man, dating back to when he once did
some interviews for London Television. Here he
could invite his favourite guest artists, do a bit of
chat and generally camp it up in time-honoured
Bolan fashion. As a cross between Judy Garland
and Louis B Mayer, he was brilliant. But one of
the lads in the heavy rock combos booked for
the show stopped me dead in the gents by
demanding, Is he queer? Nah, course not.
Straight as a die, our old Marc, I protested.
A few minutes later, Marc sailed past us in the
corridor calling out coyly, What shall I wear?
I know, the green dress with black suspenders.
In fact he turned up wearing a leopardskin
creation that even a leopard might have
baulked at. The whole day was worthy of being
turned into one of those probing documentaries

where people bare their souls and the holes in
their socks before cameras so discreet that
nobody seems aware of their presence.
It was just like The World About Us. The cast of
characters included: Marcs PR Keith Altham,
recently recovered from a nervous collapse that
he threatened would be brought on again if
Barbara De Witt said another word; Barbara De
Witt, Davids American PR lady who wanted to
know what Keith Altham was doing bringing
so many press in her artists wake; Bob Hart of
The Sun, anxious to see Keith Altham, buying
him a drink (Youre the only publicist I cant
afford to have lunch with); Jeff Dexter, 60s
hippie DJ and now partner with Tony Gourvish
in Marcs management; the said Mr Gourvish
resplendent in genuine 1968 Teddy boy jacket;
and Eric Hall the man from EMI.
The whole party descended by train upon
Manchester and spent the day being hustled
out of the studio by Davids bodyguard,
a charmingly polite gentleman who kept
appearing in front of us saying, Youll have to
leave now. I half-expected to meet him at the
front gate when I got home that night, holding
up both hands to bar any further progress.
The main targets of his lifes work (sending
people in the opposite direction from whence
they came) were Marc Bolans manager, his
press officer and various friends hoping to see
David after his absence from the scene for many
years. Aint it strange what some people will do
[were] the rather apt [lyrics from the Bay City
Rollers Aint It Strange] being danced to by
Heart Throb, the shows troupe of girl dancers
who had chosen to wear plastic see-through
bowler hats for their routine.
On came the Rods Barrie Masters in jeans
and shirt miming to their backing track on
Do Anything You Wanna Do. Its a bit Mick
Mouse, this show, he said as he came off the
rostrum, indicating that he and the boys had
been hanging around in the studio all day
waiting to do their bit.
Generation X arrived red of hair and pink of
cheeks, somewhat breathless from a disastrous
day spent on the M1. A broken-down van, no
equipment available the bad news
experienced by many a group. But it didnt stop
them adopting the aggressive attitude expected
of a new-wave combo. As offers were being made
to lend them equipment they discussed jokingly
whether or not to smash up Marcs guitar, What
will it cost us 400 quid? Eventually guitars
were lent, including Rod Paul Grays bass (he
told me that if the X-men smashed up his bass
guitar, he would smash them up).
Miraculously, amplifiers and instruments
were procured and Generation X stormed into
their big number Your Generation, Billy Idol,
their pretty lead singer, looking aggressively
angelic. In fact they played so well I found myself
clapping their performance, lone applause that
must have sounded almost insulting in the
silence of the studio as the echoes died rapidly
away. But Generation Xs discomfort was not
over. They had to play a number at least five
more times, constantly being stopped by the
technicians, something all musicians detest.
Marc had to keep repeating the same
introduction: This is Generation X. They have
a new singer Billy Idol who is supposed to be as
pretty as me. I aint so sure. Check it out.

Eventually he stumbled over the words by the
sixth attempt. Me brain werent connected to
me leg, he explained with a grin.
eanwhile, more rows were breaking

out between Generation Xs manager and
producer Muriel. As Stewart bellowed
abuse across the studio floor, Muriel, a very
ladylike professional, simply walked away.
Its appalling, said Stewart. Now they are
only going to show half the song or pull it out.
Well do Top of The Pops instead. Lets go! He
made a move for the exits, but the band stayed
on and later Granada confirmed that X would
be in the show.
While the September 28 show was still being
recorded, the days edition was going out
featuring Marc singing Lets Dance, the old
Chris Montez hit, which sounded pretty good
given the Bolan treatment, as well as his new
single Celebrate Summer.
Now it was time for the studio to be cleared
while Marc and David rehearsed their big
number. Momentarily eluding the bodyguard,
I managed to hide behind a piece of scenery as
Bolan and Bowie joined forces with Herbie
Flowers, Dino Dines and Tony Newman. It
sounded like a bit of a shambles to the
uninitiated. In fact the song was only just put
together in time and remained untitled, a bit of
casual rock jamming. But it was fun to see them
together and they sounded pretty funky with
Marc blazing enthusiastically on lead guitar.
And to complete the atmosphere of
revivalism, Marc launched himself into
Deborah, a new version
which had to be cut when
the backing track seemed to
go out of sequence. I dont
mind lip-synching, but
when its the wrong verse
complained Marc tartly.
Suddenly there came a
bellowed announcement:
Will anybody not on the
show please leave the studio! Once more we
were herded outside. Oh why did we come?
said the Rods, also hustled away.
But a kindly floor manager, keeping
remarkably cool, swiftly let the entourage back
in again to witness the final historic chapter.
David readied himself for his solo number
Heroes from the album. With his jeans
carefully rolled up to reveal lace-up boots, he
stood coolly before the microphone, careless of
the chatter of the studio.
Ignoring some impudent feedback, he began
singing, slowly and lowly at first, with a deep
voice that always comes as a surprise from one
of such slim build. There were pregnant pauses
between bars and then suddenly he bellowed
forth, I will be king and you will be queen/We
can be heroes just for one day/We can be heroes!
It was a remarkable performance even in a cold
TV studio.
Now it was Marcs big moment when he was
to join David for the taping of their hastily
sketched out number. While David had his face
made up, Marc called anxiously to the floor
manager: Do you want me front or back?
Just touch your toes, Marc, called out one of
the Rods waiting to do their number on the
opposite rostrum. The mighty duo began

their number and, said Billy Idol approvingly
from the sidelines, Its got that disco beat all
right. What an old pooftah, grumbled a
roadie uncharitably.
Suddenly there was competition on stage
as the number ground to a halt. Were
getting electric shocks up here shrieked
Marc, pointing towards the mics. Nobody
moved. Time was ticking dangerously away.
At 7pm the union would pull the plugs out
and head for home. Attempts were being
made by the production team to stop the
band. Were rehearsing, actually said
Marc, somewhat put out.
David stood quietly to one side smiling and
unperturbed, but suddenly he frowned. That
wasnt the actual take, was it? he asked as the
truth began to dawn What do you mean, not
really? Either it was or it wasnt: One, two,
three, four! and Tony Newman uncertainly set
the drums rolling once more. At this point Marc
fell off the stage with excitement. A wooden
box for Marc, please, said David. Look, weve
got to do that again, it wasnt finished. But the
studio man was calling, Lets have the Rods,
please. The Rods obediently scrambled onto
their rostrum to start recording and David and
Marc instantly started jamming. At 7pm
precisely all the lights went out and the
technicians disappeared. Youve got a
blackout, mate! called a voice from the floor.
A furious row broke out between the Rods and
the producer when it was realised there was no
time for the group to do their number. This is
really unfair, said Barrie Masters. Weve been
waiting here all day to go on,
and we came up from
London yesterday to do the
show. Thats two days
wasted. The Rods stormed
off to their dressing room
where a certain amount
of swearing went on.
Bolan was allegedly locked
in his dressing room in tears,
and Bowie languidly viewed the results of the
days work on the video-tape machine. All was
smiles when it was realised they had something
of a classic in the can, even it if was a shambles.
If there was any acrimony it evaporated later.
On the train going back to London, David sat
next to Barrie and the rest of the Rods shared
beer, wine and chicken legs. I want to do a tour
of Britain in the New Year he said. Starting in
Glasgow and working
my way down. I really
want to play again.
Today was great fun.
David also said that
he had recorded a
Christmas show
with Bing Crosby of all
people, and had also
been recording album
tracks with Marc.
But it was good to
see him back again,
and perhaps next
time we see him hell
be hero not just for a
day but a whole tour.
Chris Welch
Bolan was allegedly

in tears, Bowie
languidly viewing
the videotape
1977
j u l y s e p t em b e r
July 13, 1977: in a muslin

Destroy top designed
by Vivienne Westwood
and Malcolm McLaren,
Johnny Rotten fronts the
Sex Pistols at Daddys
Dance Hall, Copenhagen
Everyone
has a
beastly
side
THE SEX PISTOLS

outrage the locals in
Stockholm, but a chat
with Paul Cook, Johnny
Rotten and Sid Vicious
reveals hidden depths.
Discussed: hippies,
imitators, O-levels,
even music. We never
sat down and wrote a
thesis, says Rotten.
We just do it.
NME AUGUST 6
HE PROSPEROUS
CYBORGS at the next
table in the back room of
this expensive Stockholm
eating-place are sloshing
down their coffee as fast
as they possibly can, with such indecent
haste that one plump, middle-aged
Swedette disgraces herself in the process.
As they vacate the premises, another
troupe are ushered in, take a look at
the party in the corner and usher
themselves out again.
John Rotten a discordant symphony of
spiky crimson hair, grubby white tuxedo
embellished with a giant
paperclip on the lapel and
an absolutely godawful black
tie with orange polka dots
looks at the departing
Swedish posteriors with
no little disdain.
It mustve been my
aftershave, he remarks in
his fake-out voice, halfway
between Kenneth Williams,
Sweeney Todd and Peter
Cook, and returns to his
beefheart fillet, which
much to his disgust is
delicious. He eats nearly
all of it and that night he
doesnt even throw up.
Jorgen Angel / getty
1977
In Stockholm, the Sex Pistols are a big deal. God Save The Queen is
in the Top 10, just as it is in Norway, where they also have for their pains
a monarchy. Theyve been splattered all over the national press in
Scandinavia just like over here; more so than any other visiting rock
band, or so they tell me, anyway.
It hardly bears thinking about: The outrageous young superstar of
Britains controversial punk-rock group the Sex Pistols knocked over
an ashtray this morning while having his breakfast. MPs commented,
Is this the kind of behaviour that we want our young people to emulate?
We must certainly think carefully about allowing this kind of performer
on television. See editorial: page two. And all in Swedish, too
In general, though, Sweden has been less willing to take John Rotten
at his word and identify him with the Antichrist than the good ol UK.
Theyve stayed four nights in the same Stockholm hotel without any
complaints from the management, despite Sid Vicious taking a leak in
the corridor because two girls had locked themselves in the bathroom
of his particular chamber.
When the local equivalent of Teds (a bunch of kustom-kar kruisers/
American Graffiti freaks known as raggare) began harassing the Pistols
fans as they left the gig and, indeed, followed the band and their admirers
back to and into the hotel, the police were right there for the protection
of the people.
I even saw one Swedish copper at the back of the hall on the second gig
doing a restrained but joyful pogo to the lilting strains of Pretty Vacant.
Can you imagine that at a British Pistols gig in fact, can you imagine a
British Pistols gig at all these days? In Britain, if the police were informed
that the Sex Pistols and/or their fans were getting the shit whacked out of
them somewhere, the most you could expect would be that theyd show
up an hour or two later to count the bodies and bust the survivors (if any)
for threatening behaviour.
At home the Sex Pistols are public enemies. In Sweden theyre an
important visiting Britpop group. So it goes
EMME TELL you a little bit about Stockholm, just for context
and perspective, before we get on to the good bits. Theyve got
the highest standard of living in the world over there weep,
Amerika, weep with an average weekly wage of 120 and prices
to match. A bottle of beer will set you back over a quid a throw, and
by British standards it aint even beer; more like a beer-flavoured
soft drink that fills you up and leaves you belching and farting and
urinating like an elephant and doesnt even get you pissed. You can
drink 20 quids worth of the poxy stuff and still go to bed sober,
though the O Henry twist-in-the-tail comes when you wake up
with a hangover.
Somehow the idea of a suffering hangover without even having been
drunk is peculiarly Swedish.
The natives dont see it quite that way, though. Through some weirdness
or other of the Scandinavian metabolism, they get completely zonko on
the stuff, with the result that the authorities think that they have an
alcohol problem. You can imagine what effect
this would have on a bunch like the Sex Pistols,
who are pretty fond of their beer. It got so bad
that by the end of the tour John Rotten gave up
in disgust and started drinking Coca-Cola.
Swedish television is fun, too. For a start, the
two channels only operate for a combined
seven hours each night, and the programming
seems to consist almost exclusively of obscure
documentaries and the occasional mouldy old
English B-picture. Radio is impossibly dopey
you cant even dance to a rocknroll station,
cuz theres nuthin goin on at all. Not at all.
In the discos, they play the same dumbo
records that they play in UK discos, only six
months later, and the girls think youre weird if
you dont/cant dance the Bump.
Put it this way: if you think that theres nothing going on in your
particular corner of the UK, then theres double nothing going on in
Sweden. Make that treble nothing. God only knows what the Swedes get
up to in the privacy of their own homes to cope with the total lack of decent
public entertainment facilities, but it must be pretty bloody extreme.
We thought some kind of oasis had been discovered when we found
a late-night cafe that served Guinness.
John Rotten who is, after all, an Irisher by roots

(the rest of the band call him Paddy sometimes) and
therefore likes his Guinness was enchanted by this
revelation until we discovered that it was are you
beginning to get the picture now? a special Scanda
variety of Guinness even though its brewed up in
Dublin, and therefore no stronger than the rest of the
stuff they have over there.
We ordered up about 10 of the bloody things,
swilled them down and discovered to our horror that
we were all still sober, so we celebrated the fact by
doing a burner on the establishment in question
and vamoosing without settling the bill. Wed got as
far as the car of our self-appointed guide a Chris
Spedding lookalike who runs a punk boutique called
Suicide and who calls himself the only true punk
in Sweden before a search party from the cafe
catches up with us and hauls The Only True Punk
away to face retribution.
At this stage in the proceedings, the Pistols are only
three-quarters strong. Sid Vicious is in London,
where he has had to appear in court on charges of
possessing an offensive weapon of
the knifish variety and assaulting
a police officer.
That leaves the rest of the party
as Rotten, Steve Jones, Paul Cook,
roadies Rodent (borrowed from
The Clash) and Boogie, and
Virgin Records international
panjandrum Laurie Dunn, an
amiable Australian (stop laughing
at the back there) whose room
seems to function as an assembly
point. People at a loss for anything
to do seem to end up going to
Lauries room as a convenient way
of running into other people with
nothing to do.
Steve Jones plays guitar. Hes been playing the guitar for little more than
a year and a half, which would indicate that hes going to be a monster
player by the time hes been playing for a bit longer. The reason that he
sounds far more professional and experienced than he actually is is
that he sticks to what is simple and effective and within the confines of
a hard-rock aesthetic tasteful. He knows what constitutes a good guitar
sound, his time and attack are impeccable, and he plays no self-indulgent
bullshit whatsoever.
There are a lot of musicians far better than Steve Jones (in the
technical-ecstasy sense, that is) who could learn a lot from listening to
him, could remind themselves of what they
were originally looking for when they started
out and how they lost it along the way.
Steve Jones is the oldest of the Pistols at 22,
and his stolid features and blocky physique
make him, visually at least, the most atypical
Pistol of em all. On the first evening, he went
out to dinner in a Normal Person costume of
dark-blue blazer, grey slacks and a neat shirt
and tie camouflage so effective that I nearly
didnt recognise him when he passed me in the
corridor. It was only his fluorescent hennaed
hair that gave him away as being a rocknroller.
Hes a friendly, relaxed, good-natured geezer;
could be anybody you know and like and drink
with; could be you.
Paul Cook plays drums, and has done so for three years now. Like Jones,
he plays with an ear for what sounds good, a straight-ahead highpowered no-bullshit approach to what he does and no distance at all
between himself and his drums.
Again, hes an ordinary guy in the best sense of the term; he was in at
the roots of the band when a convocation of kids with heisted
instruments were jamming around in Shepherds Bush no formal
groups, just a bunch of people playing together.
I stayed in for
about two
weeks cos
everyone kept
calling me Sid
The nucleus was Cook and Jones (the latter then singing as well as
playing guitar), Glen Matlock on bass and sundry additional guitarists
including Mick Jones (now of The Clash), Brian James (now of The
Damned) and Nick Kent (now of no fixed abode).
The Sex Pistols had their dark genesis when Jones, Matlock and Cook
got together with Johnny Rotten under the Cupid auspices of Malcolm
McLaren. Since Glen Matlock got the push and was replaced by Rottens
old college (not university college) buddy and neo-bassist Sid Vicious,
the Pistols have consisted of two factions: Cook/Jones and Rotten/Vicious.
These factions are by no means opposed or unfriendly or at crosspurposes; its just that Paul and Steve get up earlier and go to bed earlier
(with all that implies) and John and Sid get up later and go to bed later
(with all that implies) Paul and Steve hanging out together before Sid
and John get up and Sid and John hanging out together after Paul and
Steve have gone to bed.
John and Sid are the public face of the Sex Pistols: Jagger and Richard to
the other twos Watts and Wyman, even though itd be highly misleading
to assume that the creative chores are split that way as well.
Anyway, thats as much background as weve time or need for, so zoom
in on the Happy House, a Stockholm club run under the auspices of the
local universitys Student Union where were a few minutes early for the
soundcheck prior to the first of the bands two nights there.
NE THING you have to say for Rodent: it takes a lot of bottle
to set up gear while wearing a pair of those dumb bondage
pants that strap together at the knees.
Rodent, Boogie and this Swede called Toby (though the band and
their own crew call him Bollock-Chops) have just schlepped a massive
PA system, three amps, a drum kit and all the rest of the paraphernalia
that it takes to put on a rock show up to the second floor of this horrible
structure, and Rodents done it all in bondage pants.
He does it the next night with his sleeves held together with crocodile
clips. Its a mans life in the punk-rock business. Join the professionals.
Sid Vicious has caused everybody a massive amount of relief by
returning from London with the news that he beat the assault rap
completely and copped a mere (?) 125 fine for the knife.
Howd you dress for court, Sid?
Oh, I wore this real corny shirt my mum got me about five years ago
and me steels. I mustve looked a right stroppy cunt.
Oh yeah, we havent really met Sid yet. He got the name Sid when he
was named after an allegedly really foul-looking albino hamster of that
name that he and Rotten used to have.
I hate the name Sid, its a right poxy name, its really vile. I stayed in
for about two weeks because everyone kept calling me Sid, but they just
wouldnt stop. Rotten started. Hes orrible like that, hes always picking
on me
Rotten: Sids the philosopher of the band.
Vicious: Im an intellectual.
Rotten: Hes also an oaf. He listens to what everybody else says and
thinks, How can I get in on this?
Vicious: No I dont! Im a highly original thinker, man; hes just jealous
because Im really the brains of the group. Ive written all the songs, even
right from the beginning when I wasnt even in the group. They was so
useless they had to come to me because of they couldnt think of anything
by themselves
Thank you, boys. Well be returning to this conversation later, but
meantime theres this soundcheck to do and it sounds terrible.
The stage is acoustically weird and means that by the time Sids got his
bass amp set up so that he can hear himself the bass is thundering around
the hall with an echo that bounces like a speed freak playing pinball. The
drums and guitar have been utterly swamped and everybody has a
headache. Even me the man who stood 10 feet in front of Black Sabbath
yelling, Louder! Louder! I have a headache. Oh, the shame and
degradation of it all!
The problem is partially solved by the simple expedient of moving
the amp forward until its beside Sid instead of behind him. Its
unorthodox but it works and it means that a semi-reasonable
balance can be obtained. The sound still swims in the echoey hall
and everybodys brought down something you should pardon the
expression rotten.
premium rockshot
July 13, 1977: the Pistols

play to an audience of
about 125 at a disco in
the restaurant of the
stra Stranden Hotel,
Halmstad, Sweden
1977
Outside, a youthful horde of Swedish punks

decked out in fair facsimiles of Britpunk outfits
are milling around looking up at the window
behind which the band and their entourage
are lurking.
None of these kids are going to get in tonight,
however, because Happy House gigs are mostly
for over-23s only a fact which causes bitter
amusement because it means that the audience
is, officially at least, all older than the band.
When the group make a break for it to go back
to the hotel, its Sid Vicious who stays out in the
street listening to what the people have to say
and assuring them that the band are on their
side. Hes out there for more than five minutes
before hes virtually pulled into the car.
I dont think we should be playing for them poxy student hippies.
I reckon we should tell em that we dont play unless they let the kids in
either that or open up the back doors and let the kids in anyway. In the
end, the kids have to wait until the following night when its 15-and-over,
but its not a situation that the band are particularly happy with.
In the dressing room back at the Happy House a few hours later, John is
ostentatiously asleep on a couch, Steve is tuning up his white Les Paul
with the aid of a Strobo-Tune (more accurate than the human ear, totally
silent so you dont bug the shit out of everybody else in the room by
making horrible noises, hours of fun for all the family, get one today!)
and Sid is whacking out Dee Dee Ramone basslines on his white Fender
Precision bass.
Sids musicianship (or lack of same) is something of an issue with some
people, so lets say right here that hes coming along pretty good. His
choice of Dee Dee as his model is a wise one, since thats just the kind of
clean, strong and simple playing that the Pistols require.
At present, hes using a kind of flailing-from-the-elbow right-hand
action that takes far more effort than the notes require, but he keeps time,
doesnt hit more than his share of bum notes (not much more than his
share, anyway) and takes his new-found role as A Bass Player as seriously
as he takes anything.
Up in the hall, the student audience is milling around ignoring the
reggae thats pumping out of the PA system. There are signs of movement
from behind the silver curtains and then theyre on,
revealed in all their scummy glory. Rottens behind
the mic, staring out at the audience through
gunmetal pupils, mouth tight, shoulders hunched,
one hand clamped around the microphone.
Id like to apologise, he says harshly, for all the
people who couldnt get in. It wasnt our fault.
And the band kicks into Anarchy In The UK,
Jones guitar a saw-toothed snarl teetering on the
edge of a feedback holocaust, Sids bass synched
firmly into Cooks walloping drums and Rotten

an avenging scarecrow, an accusing outcast
cawing doom and contempt like Poes raven.
Theres been a lot of bullshit laid down about
the Pistols musicianship by a lot of people who
should know better (but the world is full of
people who should know better but never do).
I played God Save The Queen to Mick
Ronson when he was over here a little while ago
and he looked at me in amazement and said, I
dont understand why people keep telling me
that they cant play! Theyre fucking great!
And, of course, hes right. They put down a
blazing roller-coaster powerdrive for Rottens
caustic vocals to ride and it sounds totally right.
Except that theres something wrong.
Somewhere along the line the monitors have
completely dropped out, and Rotten cant hear
himself singing, with the result that he has to
Friends since
shout even louder, his pitching becomes ever
schooldays in
more erratic and his throat gets put under more
West London: Paul
and more strain.
Cook and (right)
Steve Jones
Between numbers, Rotten mercilessly
harangues Boogie, whos responsible for the
live sound-mix, but theres absolutely nothing
Boogie can do. The monitors are completely
shot, and theyll just have to be patched up
before tomorrows gig.
Still, the Pistols flail on through I Wanna Be
Me, Im A Lazy Sod, EMI (by far the best song
so far written about a record company), God
Save The Queen, Problems, No Feelings,
Pretty Vacant, the encore of No Fun and
sundry others, and its hard to see how anyone
who digs rocknroll couldnt dig the Pistols;
while theyre on stage you couldnt conceive of
anybody being better and John Rotten bestrides
the rocknroll stage of the second half of the 70s
the way David Bowie did for the first half.
If the last few British rocknroll years have produced a superstar, Johnny
Rotten is it. And let Fleet Street, the BBC and the rock establishment cope
with that the best way they know how, because it isnt just happening, its
already happened. And if the definitive British rock band of now feel that
they have to go to Europe or Scandinavia or even America just to be able to
play in front of people, then theres something worse than anarchy in the
UK right now.
Never are tyrants born of anarchy, wrote celebrated fun person the
Marquis de Sade. You see them flourish only behind the screen of law.
And right now in 1977, whos to say hes wrong?
Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights and segue straight into
Marleys Exodus, pumping out of the soundsystem of a hideously
twee rococo disco deep in the eart of Stockholm. Its playing at least
twice as loud as anything else that theyve played so far tonight, and thats
because John and Sid have commandeered the disco DJs command post
and theyve found it among his records. Theyve also found Pretty
Vacant and that comes up next even louder.
Ray sTEvEnson / REx fEaTuREs
We do what
we want to
do and theres
no industry
behind us
HE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON finds the Pistols party signing

autographs, hanging out, posing and nicking things at The Only
True Punk In Swedens boutique.
The verdict seems to be that everything there is pretty much like SEX
was a year or so ago and, in keeping with the celebrated Swedish standard
of living, everything is around twice the price that it would be in London.
A photographer is on hand to capture the golden
moments. Swelling almost visibly with pride,
Swedens Only True Punk unveils with a flourish
a deluxe leather jacket that hes ordered up
specially for Sid.
Vicious charmingly clad in baggy pink pants,
a floral blouse and sandals, with a little pink bow in
his immaculately spiky coiffure takes one look at it
and declares it poxy, vile, corny and twee.
Swedens Only True Punk looks deeply hurt.
sex pistols
Over the other side of the shop, Rotten is trying on a pair of repulsive
leopardskin-topped shoes.
Theyre really orrible, he beams. I must have them. I could start
another absurd trend like safety pins.
The way that previous sartorial quirk of his had caught on with The
Youth and become an industry virtually overnight is a source of vast
amusement to him as well it might be.
With the Only True Swedish Punk and his girlfriend are two 12-year-old
kids, neighbours of theirs from out in the country, where they live. These
two kids immediately latch on to Vicious, and he spends much of his day
sitting with them and playing with them and talking to them generally
keeping the kids amused. Hes really great with them if you know
anyone whos got a pre-adolescent kid whos into punk rock and needs
a babysitter, allow me to recommend you Sid Vicious, Mary Poppins in
punks clothing.
The previous night, the air had been thick with rumours that the
raggare had eyes for trashing, and for the second gig the one open to the
teenage punk rockers the talk is intensified.
The bands limo shaddup at the back there! and the attendant
dronemobiles are waved through a police cordon and everyones hustled
through a back door mach schnell.
Get that poser inside! snaps Rotten as Swedens Only True Punk
dawdles to make sure hes noticed in the exalted company. Theres less
dressing-room ligging than last time and the band are on fast as shit.
The punkette audience tonight is a lot cooler and better behaved than
the beer-chucking beardies who made up last nights crew, and the band
feel a far greater kinship to the crowd.
Its our night tonight! shouts Rotten as the band crash into Anarchy,
and tonight his contempt is not directed at the audience but on their
behalf at a phantom enemy: the crowds who lurk outside the police
cordons in their Dodges, Chevies and Cadillacs.
Tonight everything goes fine. The monitors work, the
sounds fine and the band relax and play a better, longer set,
graced by a couple of additional numbers that they hadnt
bothered to get into the night before, including Satellite Boy
and Submission.
Next to me, a girl sits on her boyfriends shoulders, oblivious
to the little bubble of blood welling up around the safety-pin
puncture in her cheek. After a while, she switches the safety pin
to her other cheek sos she can link it up with the chain in her
earring. Pretty soon, that begins to bleed too. She doesnt care.
Everybody band, audience, even the cop at the back is high
as a kite and happy as can be. Theres no violence and not a bad
vibe in sight; everybodys getting off. And this is the show that
our guardians wont let us see?
Listen, all the Pistols do is get up on stage, play some songs
and get off again. Shit, officer, taint nothin but a little rocknroll
fun; no chicken-killing, throwing of clothes into the audience,
nudity, or any of that dirty stuff. No audience manipulation, no
incitement. This is healthy, Jack.
The trouble comes after the audience leave; it aint the Pistols
fault, and theres nothing at all that the Pistols can do about it.
Were all upstairs drinking rats piss when theres a commotion
outside and someone reports in with the news that a bunch of
raggare have just chased a couple of young girl fans and ripped
the pins right through their faces to prove what big bad tough
guys they are.
Sid wants to go out there and lay into them. Someone else
suggests ramming them with the limousine like the cat in the
South did to the Ku Klux Klan awhile back. Ultimately, theres
nothing that can be done except call the Fuzz and feel very, very
sick about the whole thing.
O ULTIMATELY, WHY are the various establishments
governmental, media and even rocknroll more
frightened of the Pistols than of any other previous
manifestation of rocknroll madness?
Because they were all to some extent slightly controlled by the
industry, says Rotten, ensconced with Vicious and Cook in the
relative peace and quiet of a hotel room. There was always an
element of the establishment behind it, but with us its totally our
own. We do what we want to do and theres no industry behind
us. Thats the difference. Thats what frightens them
Or rather, interposes Vicious, the industry is behind us rather

than with us.
Hey, if the industrys behind you its got a knife in its hand
Yeah, says Sid, but weve got a Chieftain tank.
They cant control us, continues Rotten. Were uncontrollable.
Theyve predicted all down the line against us, and theyve failed. This
scares them. Theyve never been able to do that before. Theyve always
known before that the money would come into it, but theyve missed the
boat so many times.
PAUL COOk: The thing was that everyone in the beginning was so sure
that no way was it going to take off. People like Nicky Horne said that
theyd never play punk rock and now he dont play nothing but.
Which is an equally narrow attitude
ROTTEN: If not worse. With us it used to be They wont catch on
because were going to stop it and thereve been a hell of a lot of
organisations out to stop us, and theyve all failed.
Me, I dont think the Pistols can be stopped unless the kids are tired
of them.
ROTTEN: Theyre the ones who make all the decisions now. Theyre
the ones that count, and I hope theyve got the brains to suss it all out for
themselves and not be told by the press, This band is finished, and then
think, Yes, thats right, theyre finished and Im not going to like them any
more. Im now going to like this. Theyve got to decide for themselves.
COOk: I think its gone beyond the point where people can be told.
They wouldnt play God Save The Queen but that went to the top of the
charts, and that usually dictates what goes in.
We talk about the Only True Swedish Punks boutique, and Rotten
opines that places like that should only be there to inspire people to
create their own look, and be what they are instead of adopting a
readymade facade. The same dictum, natrlich, applies to moozic:
Friends since meeting

at Hackney Tech in
1973: Sid Vicious and
(right) Johnny Rotten
CREDIT
1977
Thats what music should be

about, says Rotten. I get very sick
with the imitations. I despise them.
They ruin it. They have no reason to
be in it other than wanting money,
which shows.
Youve got to have your own point
of view. You can have an idol like
you may see a band and think, God,
that band are really fucking good,
Id like to be like that. So you start
up your own band, and then your
own ideas come in as well on top of
that and you have a foundation.
But a lot of those bands dont
leave that foundation and they stay
in a rut and they listen to all the
other songs in their morbid little
Im really the
circle and they do rewrites of them.
brains of the
group: John
Hence fifty thousand songs about
Beverly AKA
how hard it is to be on the dole.
Sid Vicious on
a plane in 1977
Been listening to The Clash,
obviously, says Sid. The Clash
only wrote those songs in the first
place cos of me and im [Rotten] moaning about living in a poxy squat in
Hampstead. It was probably them coming up there and seeing the
squalor we were living in that encouraged them to write all that shit.
Squalor in Hampstead, the bastion of liberalism?
Oh no, says Rotten. You shoulda seen it.
Vicious: It was liberal, all right. It didnt even have a bathtub.
Was there any particular plan or strategy in mind right at the start of
the Pistols?
Rotten: Instinct. It hasnt really worked out like that. We never sat
down and wrote a thesis. Theres no rules, and no order. We just do it,
which is more to the point. Do it, and when you cant do it no more, then
dont do it at all.
Vicious: If it requires any real effort, then theres no point in doing it.
It should just come. If you have to force it, then theres something wrong.
Rotten: Yeah, if you have to sit down in your room and go, Ive got to
write a song, but what about? thats rubbish. It just comes. Its there.
Yeah, I know just what you mean, John. Pure, untainted, burning
creativity
Rotten: Oh yeah, man. Far out. Its very hard not to run into those
hippie bullshit phrases, because some of them were good, some of them
actually meant something. Its just a shame that they ruined a lot of em
with silly ideas about, Yeah man, I wanna be free, which meant fuck all.
Vicious: Free from what they never even said.
Course we did, man free from the same things you want free from:
preplanned existences, boring jobs,
stifling media
cook: Yeah, but they were like that
themselves, werent they?
Rotten: I can remember going to those
concerts and seeing all those hippies being
far out and together, maaaaaaaaan, despising
me because I was about 20 years younger than
they were and having short hair. Thats when
I saw through their bullshit. A lot of punks are
like that as well, which makes me really sick.
cook: The only memory of hippies I have
was when I was in a park once when we was
skinheads and we was throwin conkers at these
hippies and they were goin, Hey, thats really
nice, man, I really love conkers.
Rotten: Well, that made you a fool then, didnt
it? I think they won hands down, because you
were wasting your energy and they were laughing
at you.
find-out-what-the-kids-aredoing-and-make-them-stop trick.
Yeah, but when they find out
its always too late, he says.
In five years time theyll have
schoolteachers with safety pins
in their ears. Its so predictable
with those oafs.
Vicious: The definition of
a grown-up is someone who
catches on just as something
becomes redundant.
The kids Rotten went to school
with werent really into music,
except the geezers I hung around
with. It was in skinhead times
and they couldnt understand
how a skinhead could like The
Velvet Underground. It was quite
apt. I went to the Catholic School
in Caledonian Road, opposite the
prison. What a dungeon!
Force-feeding you religion along
with the lessons?
Yeah, it was terrible. They really destroy you with what they do to your
soul. They try and take away any kind of thought that might in any way be
original. You know when caning was banned? In Catholic schools that
didnt apply, because theyre not state-run. They get aid from the state,
but theyre not entirely state-run. I dont know where they get their money
from Id like to know. Its probably some Irish mafia.
What they try to do is turn you out a robot. When it comes to allocating
jobs for a student whos about to be kicked out into the wild world, its
always jobs like bank clerk be a railway attendant or a ticket collector.
Even the ones who stayed on for A-levels
Were any of the teachers halfway human?
The ones that were got sacked very quickly. Everything was taught in
a very strict style, in the same way that they taught religion: this is the
truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and if you dont like it
youre gonna get caned. But Catholic schools build rebels: a lot went along
with it, but a lot didnt. There was always a riot in religion classes.
Nobody liked that subject.
I got kicked out when I was nearly 15 14 and a half because I had too
long hair. I had really long hair
A balding old hippy with a big pair of platforms on, sneers Vicious.
Thats what you were. I went to the same college as him
to get O-levels, Rotten finishes the sentence for him. I waited a year
and a bit because I went on building sites working, and then I went to get
some O-levels because I still had it in me that O-levels were the way to
heaven plus I didnt want to work no more.
I got a grant. It was very easy. For some reason
I always liked technical drawing and
geography. At college I did maths, English,
physics, technical drawing and chemistry
cook: Ive got an O-level in woodwork.
Vicious: Ive got two O-levels English and
English Literature and Im very intelligent.
Rotten: English Literature was a joke.
I passed that with flying colours without even
trying. It was stupid fucking Keats poetry,
because I did my English in my Catholic school.
They kicked me out halfway through the
course because they said Id never pass, but
theyd already entered me, so I went and took
the exam privately because I was still entitled to
sit down at County Hall.
And I passed with an A and I went down there
with the certificate and showed it to em.
getty
Were
fighting
people who
ought to be on
our side
t MAY oR MAY NOT seem ironic now, but

when Johnny Rotten was 15-year-old John
Lydon of Finsbury Park, he was tossed out
of school because his hair was too long, the old
nlike fellow ReggAe freaks in

The Clash, theres no reggae in the
Pistols repertoire.
I find that slightly condescending and that is not
a slag-off of The Clash. Im white, and Im rock. I dont
like rock music, but I like what we do with it. How could we sing about
Jah Rastafari? Even Police And Thieves is full of innuendo, its about
three in one God on the cross and on each side are the police and the
thieves; Rasta in the middle. Thats what the song implies. It doesnt need
to say more, because a Jamaican will know straight away. Besides, I dont
like Junior Murvins voice.
Hes very much like Curtis Mayfield.
Yeah, very much like Curtis Mayfield.
And you dont like Curtis Mayfield?
Yeah, I do. I like the music; theres a different feel about it.
Do black kids dig your music? Do they understand it as part of the
same thing?
For sure. Where was that gig where a lot of dreads turned up? That was
really shocking. I think it was an early Nashville, years ago. There was
a few of them at the back, and I was really shocked that theyd be there.
I talked to them afterwards and they said, Understand, just understand,
man will understand, mon. You never get any trouble from blacks. They
understand its the same movement.
Yeah, but reggae singers talk about what they love at least as much as
they do about what they hate.
Dont we?
Only by implication: in the sense that if its known what you stand
against it can then be inferred what you stand for.
Yeah, but its the same with reggae. There are so many people who
refuse to listen to them: No no, its all a big con. All this terrible Jah
and Rasta stuff, its all a big con to make money. Theres been loads
of reviews
That one by Nick Kent was just classic ignorance, comparing reggae
with hippies.
AnY PeoPle like to feel that Malcolm McLaren is in
total control of the Sex Pistols: Svengali to Rottens Trilby.
Maybe they feel happier thinking that Rottens controlled
by McLaren than they do feeling that
maybe he isnt controlled at all.
They need to do that because they dont
want to think differently than they already
do. They like their safe world. They dont
like realising the way things actually are.
cook: They fucking do that with
everybody. They dont like admitting that
anybody actually is the way they are. They
always say, They got it from them, theyre
just like them.
Vicious: The trouble is that the general
public are so contrived themselves that
they cant imagine how anybody else could
not be contrived. Therefore, if youre not
contrived, they have to find some way of
justifying their own contrivance
Ghost voiceover from the past: Jack
Nicholson in Easy Rider telling Fonda and
Hopper, Theyre not scared of you. Theyre
scared of what you represent to them
what you represent to them is freedom.
But talking about it and being it thats
two different things.
I mean, its real hard to be free when you are bought and sold
in the marketplace. Course, dont ever tell anybody that theyre
not free, cos then theyre gonna get real busy killin and maimin
to prove to you that they are. Oh yeah theyre gonna talk to you
and talk to you and talk to you about individual freedom, but they
see a free individual, its gonna scare em.
But I dont tell em what my ghost voice says, because thats
hippies, and thats past and gone and it was bullshit anyway.
Or so they tell me.
A few more things about Johnny Rotten. When he was eight he
had meningitis, and it left him with weak eyes, permanent sinus,
stunted growth and a hunched back.
The once-decayed teeth which got him his nickname are held
together with steel rods.
They only time I saw him throw up was because his dinner had
disagreed with his somewhat unstable digestive system and
then some twisto went into the bog after hed finished and started taking
polaroids of it.
He uses foot powder on his hair because it absorbs all the grease. I never
saw him hassle anyone who didnt hassle him, and I never saw him
bullshit anyone who didnt bullshit him, and what more can you say for
anyone in 1977?
Turn the other cheek too often and you get a razor through it John
Rotten, 1977.
Still, 1977 is a prize year for violence, and talking about the Pistols nearly
always ends up as talking about violence, so in the words of Gary
Gilmore lets do it.
When they push you into a corner like that, what are you to do? You
either kill them or give up, which is very sad, because were fighting
people who ought to be on our side or are on our side but dont know it.
They say were using them, but the real people who are using them they
dont even know about.
Vicious: Were quite nice friendly chappies, really, but everyone has
a beastly side to them, dont they? I cant think of anyone I know who if
somebody messed around with them they wouldnt do em over.
Rotten: People are sick of being used, but theyre now attacking the
wrong people eg, us. When I was a skinhead, everyone I know used to go
to the football games, and the match had nothing to do with it. What else
was there to do? Disco? The youth club? Talkin bout my generation
there was nothing else except alcohol.
Yeah, but having a barney with a bunch of people whore there to have
one too is one thing, but random picking-on in the streets like some
skinheads used to do to hippies is a whole other ballgame.
Rotten: Yeah, but to a skinhead it looked like: These geezers are
having fun doing what theyre doing and were not just because of the way
we look, so smash em up and stop their fun. Its just like the Teds in
London, cos like I said, when I had a crop and I went to a festival, the
reaction I had was terrible.
Violence is always the end result of nothing to do. And its very easy,
and its very stupid.
Johnny Rotten is an avid fan of The Prisoner,
which figures. After all, hes not a number. Hes
a free man. And no matter what they put him
through, hell always be a freer man than any
of the people whove tried to tear him down.
Charles Shaar Murray
It just comes, its

there: Johnny
Rotten on his
songwriting, 1977
ray stevenson / rex features
sex pistols
1976
Joan Armatrading:
absorbing all the
right styles
of the album is a mixture

of romantic optimism and
experience, exposing a
lady of sensitive feeling.
The accompaniment, as
might be expected from
a gathering of such strong
players, is spare and at all
times correctly in tandem
with the moods.
Show Some Emotion
seems to me an absolutely
essential item for the
collection of anyone with
the remotest interest in
todays music, presenting
as it does one of our finest
singers delivering a
searing collection of
songs. There would
appear to be about half-adozen potential hit singles
here, too. What an album!
Ray Coleman, MM Sept 10
The Boomtown Rats

The Boomtown Rats ENSIGN
ALBUMS
Oh Christ, what will we

label them? Rocknroll,
rhythm and blues, pop,
new wave? All tags apply
but no one alone totally
fits the bill as a true
representation of what
The Boomtown Rats are
about. Listen to this
excellent debut album
once and youll reel in
confusion; spin it again and
you will squeal in delight.
I must also emphasise that,
while the Rats summon all those
styles, with sporadic traces of
Dylan, Stones, Beatles,
Feelgoods, Springsteen and
much more besides, their
adaptation is not one that can
be called derivative. This band
picks the cream and churns it to
create their own identity one
that will become clearer with
each album, Im sure.
But what is most heartening
about The Boomtown Rats is that
it shows that the band have left
room for real artistic progress in
the future, at a time when very
few new-wave bands think about
where theyll be five minutes
from now (an admirable
immediacy, but one that to leads
only to a short-lived existence).
The Rats have been compared
heavily to Dr Feelgood when, in
fact, they are the time-warped
(though great nonetheless)
REVIE
W
1977
ALBUMS
Michael putland / getty
Joan Armatrading
Show Some Emotion A&M
With her oblique, uniquely
structured songs and a voice that
swirls so passionately around the
words that you just have to listen
carefully, Joan Armatrading has
quickly become one of our most
distinguished artists. When she
arrived with her brilliant album
Joan Armatrading, keen students
of the songs knew it would be
hard for her to top such a
collection. Every one, from Love
And Affection to Water And
The Wine, had that compelling
touch of a truly original artist
who had absorbed all the right
styles and then transplanted her
own urgent stamp.
Here she is, then, long after
that crucial breakthrough
album and its great to be able
to herald Show Some Emotion as
a spectacular follow-up, full of
warm songs reflecting the album
title and also mirroring Joans
apparent obsession with
romantic aspirations which she
fears might not be fulfilled.
Her roots lie firmly in the blues,
and never has this been more
apparent than on Opportunity,
a cleverly conceived song about
committing a
crime (a bank raid,
perhaps?) which results in misery.
Joans aspirations to this depth
of songwriting bode well for the
future and her rare plaintive vocal
puts her firmly in a line of descent
from the great blues singers.
Woncha Come On Home,
which kicks off the record, is as
powerful as anything she has
performed in the upbeat, while
Show Some Emotion and
Peace In The Mind
demonstrate again her quirky
song construction, which remains
such a positive characteristic.
Theres even a pure ballad, Get
In The Sun, which is kicked so
hard in the treatment that it turns
into a blend of disco and jazz.
But yes, there is a criticism.
Because of the speedy changes
in the songs notably the
poignant ballad Willow, with its
carefully written story, along the
lines of Reach Out, Ill Be There
Joans diction loses out and the
lyrics are
difficult to
discern. A
shame, but
careful study
is repaid, all
the same. The
lyrical theme
Feelgoods taken a vital and

imaginative step further.
The potential for this band is
pretty unnerving.
For the present, though,
this album encapsulates
present (new wave), past
(60s R&B) and future (the
scintillating combination
of both with well-thoughtout lyrical and musical
arrangements).
New-wave followers will
undoubtedly pick on the 77 pop
n energy feel of Lookin After
Number 1, Mary Of The Fourth
Form, Shes Gonna Do You In
and, with slightly less enthusiasm,
Neon Heart, while staunch R&B
fanatics can get their fulfilment
out of things like Kicks, Close
As Youll Ever Be and Never
Bite The Hand That Feeds, the
only duff track on the album.
For the future, we must look to
the sharp arrangements of those
tunes as well as referring to two
beautiful ballads on the album,
Joeys On The Street Again, one
in the Morrison/Springsteen/
Lynott/Parker/ Costello mould,
and the even more poignant
I Can Make It If You Can, which
seems to be heavily influenced by
Dylan vocally. How encouraging
it is to see a band tackle two
such songs when the river is
running, even gushing, in the
opposite direction.
Vocalist Bob Geldof is
undoubtedly the main man in the
Rats. His lyrics, particularly on
Kicks and Joeys On The
Street Again, display acute
awareness of what is happening
on the street and in the home.
The chauvinism and sheer
bloody-mindedness of Lookin
After Number 1 will no doubt
win him a few enemies.
As a singer, his asset is knowing
the limitations of his voice rather
than stretching and blowing the
gaff, so he works well within a set
framework, embellishing the top
vocal with some nifty harmonies
(as on Neon Heart and Mary
Of The 4th Form, with its great
childish chant outro).
He enjoys a healthy relationship
with the rest of his competent
band, trading vocal bursts for
guitar licks with Cott and
Roberts, la Jagger and Richards.
Id like to see Johnny Fingers
potential exploited more. On this
album, he seems a little tied
down, playing a fairly
predictable role rather than
expanding the music to an
even broader horizon.
Naturally, with a neo-newwave band, the rhythm
section is solid, with Pete
SINGLES
Adverts
Gary Gilmores Eyes ANChor
Harry Doherty, MM Aug 27
BILLY JOEL
Souvenir CBS
Some artists sit on the precipice
of The Major Breakthrough for
so long that it becomes an act of
real patience, awaiting their
arrival. So it is with Billy Joel. Ever
since America took a fancy to him
with a killer single called Piano
Man, it has been obvious with
the release of each album that he
has all the vocal, instrumental,
and songwriting equipment to
match the impact of Elton John.
If anything, hes a more
inspired, less predictable writer
than Elton, as evinced here by
The Entertainer, The Ballad
Of Billy The Kid and Ive Loved
These Days. Basically, Billy Joel
writes songs much closer to the
bone than many others. He takes
as his basis for writing not love or
interdependence by two people,
more the loneliness and neardesperation of young Americans.
Thus, New York State Of Mind
and Los Angelenos tend to be
commentaries on the extremes
of these two cities, while
Captain Jack is a lament on
a 21-year-old man morally at sea.
The Entertainer parades the
empty life on the road of those
people, while Say Goodbye To
Hollywood pinpoints the citys
transparent shallowness.
As well as being a fine writer,
Joel is a powerful pianist. This
record, from a TV recording,
presents material from three
albums, Piano Man, Streetlife
Serenade and Turnstiles, as well
as new material. He has not taken
an easy route in success, being
a commentator on the passing
scene more than a flat-out
romantic. But if he continues to
build on his strength, there is no
doubt Joel will eventually clinch
it, because his performances of
interesting songs are often
magnetic. Ray Coleman, MM Aug 13
NME Aug 20
The Desperate Bicycles

The Medium Was Tedium/
Dont Back The Front rEfIll
Presumably inspired to make a
record by the punk dictum which
states that anyone can play, The
Desperate Bicycles went ahead
and did it. The result is not a little
weird. John Peel plays it all the
time. And if you ask me, when
anyone so obviously has their
credentials in all the right places,
as these boys do, you cant
possibly knock it. Well, not at
least until they sign with a major
record label. NME Jul 16
Roogalator
Love And The Single Girl VIrGIN
Hmmmmmm. Old-fashioned
blue-beat jump rhythm, electric
piano chiming like ice in a tall
glass on a hot day, breathy vocals
like Colin Blunstone with
laryngitis. Must be Roogalator!
Im already tapping my fingers
gently on the table and wishing I
could go out for a beer.
This record tries abnormally
hard to sound cool, but it just
sounds wet. Even the attempt
at a rave-up B-side transforms
James Browns sweaty, demonic
I Got You into something long,
cool and neat. Roogalator play
great and I love the kind of mid60s R&B soul that theyre
drawing on, but hey, a little more
humanity, please. NME Aug 20
SINGLES
W
REVIE
197 7
T Rex
Celebrate Summer EMI
For one golden instant I thought
Marc had finally pulled off the
unalloyed pop triumph that he
needs as a convincing, viable
follow-up to Get It On. This
isnt it, but its certainly the most
likeable single hes made for a
long time, even though it, ahem,
borrows the melody and chord
sequence of The Deviants
Lets Loot The Supermarket.
Summer is heaven in 77, yeah?
Depends where you are, Marc.
I wouldnt anticipate heavy sales
in Lewisham for a week or two.
NME Aug 20
Ian Dury
Sex And Drugs And RocknRoll
StIff
This ex-pub-rock luminaire

deserves infinitely more credit
for the late-70s renaissance of
rock culture than all those
arteriosclerotic lard-belly
grand pappy of punk
specimens that the gutter-rock
press has offered up for instant
deity. He was one of the
prophets most responsible for
kicking music out of the taxhaven rock-Tsar syndrome and
restoring it to the rightful acneravaged owners in the sweaty
subterranean depths, while also
possessing the suss to realise
that fashion is there to be led,
not followed. He and no other
was the instigator of safety-pin
chic, wearing the objects in his
lugholes when Richard Hell was
still wearing them in his
Mothercare diapers.
The geezers music boasted
a total Angloconsciousness
somewhat akin
to a vicious
Syd
Barrett,
and 1976
finally
rolled
around
The Adverts: (lr)

Laurie Driver, TV
Smith, Gaye Advert
and Howard Pickup
aprs Dury le deluge. And while

the majority of punk bands are
getting pecky layers of flab
around their souls as they get
used to the idea of having
a press officer tickling their
anus from dawn to dusk
after making their
cross on that sixfigure recording
contract,
Durys still
sharp and
sleazy. If the
youngsters
cant keep
up the pace
without
terminal
bland-out, then
TOO BAD.
Ian Dury has created a Juke
Box Classic around youth
cultures Holy Trinity that would
be a Universal No 1 if Eddie
Cochran hadnt died in vain and
if our national media wasnt
controlled by joyless
reactionary loonies. Its possibly
the ultimate statement in
narcissistic, hedonistic London
Mod Omnipotence over
stunning purity of funk, inducing
immediate addiction that
intensifies over the subsequent
grooves where Our Kid gets
understandably choked with
emotion as he gets measured up
for his new custom-made mohair
so he can look like a real Tasty
Geezer when he goes in search
of the night.
The B-side is Razzle In My
Pocket, about getting nicked
tea-leafing in the South Street
Romford Shopping Arcade out
there in Essex Overspill, and
proves conclusively that Ian
Dury is writing the
soundtrack for this
generation,
which thankfully
aint really got
sweet FA to do
with being Blank.
NME Sept 3
ian dickson / getty
Briquette and Simon Crowe

providing the backbone.
This rates as one of the best
debut albums in years and The
Boomtown Rats will be hailed
as one of the best new bands
to arrive in ages. Id bet my
Thin Lizzy collection on it.
Remember all those old

horror movies where a
sensitive and observant
concert pianist, violinist or
some such gets a mitt
transplant and ends up with
the hands of a brutal
murderer (or, aprs the
brilliant Marty Feldman,
the hands of a demented
circus clown)? If you do, go
line up with Adverts main
man TV Smith.
This song is about waking
up from an eye transplant and
discovering that the donor was
Gary (Lets do it) Gilmore, the
American murderer who
demanded the death penalty.
The performance is, how you
say, minimal, but the idea is great
and the record carries a genuine
chill. If not the performance of
the week, Gary Gilmores Eyes
is certainly the idea of the week.
Who says you have to be a
bearded ginko with a synthesizer
to be thought-provoking?
1977
OC TOBER DECEMBER
ThE CLaSh, STiff TOur,

buzzCOCkS, rOLLiNg
STONES aNd MOrE
Three dead,
three injured
NME OCT 29 Southern rock band Lynyrd
Skynyrd decimated in a plane crash.
T 9.02pm LOCAL TImE on Thursday, October 20, in
remote woodland in south-west Mississippi, Lynyrd
Skynyrd ceased to exist. The whole band were
involved in an air crash, killing three of their members
and critically injuring another three, so adding to the
string of recent tragedies.
The bands lead singer Ronnie Van Zant died, along with
their newest recruit, guitarist Steve Gaines (who joined
last year) and his sister Cassie Gaines, one of the three
backing vocalists. Also killed were personal manager Dean
Kilpatrick and the two pilots, while two of the road crew
died subsequently in hospital.
Gary Rossington (guitar), Leon Wilkeson (bass) and Billy
Powell (keyboards) were seriously injured and, on Monday,
were still on the critical list. Guitarist Allen Collins and
drummer Artimus Pyle were also injured, as well as the
other backing singers, but they are said to be recovering.
The plane was on charter to Skynyrd, and was carrying
the full band and their road and lighting crew. First reports
suggest that it ran out of fuel and clipped some trees as the
pilot tried to crash land.
The bands latest album, with the unfortunate title of
Street Survivors, was officially released her by MCA the
day after the crash. And because of this, MCA have no
immediate plans for a memorial or compilation album. In
America, the LP went gold on the day of release.
Skynyrd had just started a massive four-month tour of
the States to promote the album. It opened on October
15 and was due to run until mid-February, and they
were on their way to a concert on Friday (21) at
Louisiana University in Baton Rouge when the disaster
occurred. Their British promoter Harvey Goldsmith
had just returned from America, after signing them for
a major British tour in March.
They were discovered by Al Kooper, and made their
name as support on The Whos 1973 US tour. They first
toured Britain as support to Golden Earring, and were
so successful that they finished by headlining their
own Rainbow concert.
They have since continued to grow in stature:
touring here several times and in the last NME Poll
were voted one of the worlds Top 10 rock bands.
pa photos
October 20, 1977: the

wreckage of a twin-engine
Convair 240 plane that
crashed into a wooded
swamp near McComb,
Mississippi, killing and badly
injuring members of Lynyrd
Skynyrd and others on board
1977
OCTO B E R DECEMBER
october 6, 1977:
donna summer high
kicking and singing
in saint-tropez,
south-eastern France
A woman is still a
woman thank God
MM OCT 15 A chaotic trip to meet disco star Donna Summmer.
The key to her notoriety? I just sang an erotic song, thats all.
t sounded a good idea a free trip to

Rome! A chance to see one of Europes
most historic cities! A social call on the
Pope! And a penetrating interview with the
darling of the Plastic Mac Set, Donna Summer.
And so it came to pass the Melody Maker
and the Daily Mirror, in company with two
representatives from Pye Records in London,
departed in breathless anticipation of
meeting Orgasm Rocks current goddess.
No problems were evident. Love To Love
You Baby was a fine record that would have
made it even without the benefit of a BBC ban,
and the quirky I Feel Love, which recently
occupied the No 1 position for several weeks,
was a real oddity, an inspired production job
that brilliantly broke away from the standard
formula, certainly of disco singles.
So, the interviewer was sympathetic, and
the singer would be charming, of that I had no
doubt. Why, an American press release on the
lady said as much: When all the major
publications wanted to talk to her, she handled
the intense pressure with grace. Even the
ordeal of 18 interviews in one day after which
she lost her voice for a day didnt faze her.
Remember that quote not without irony in
the events that are to follow. Now you may be
baffled by the logic, even the ethics, involved
in record companies spending vast amounts
of money on taking journalists overseas in
Francis apesteguy / getty
order to write something about their artists.

It comes from a budget set aside for
promotion some call it hype.
This particular junket was making a fair
dent in Pyes budget, Pye having only just
acquired the British rights to Donna Summer.
Return air fare to Rome is 211 each for the
Daily Mirror and Melody Maker, plus hotel
expenses for all four. No record companys
gonna lay out that sort of bread without
a perfect certainty that a
smooth path is guaranteed
for the reporter to get his
story, from artist and
manager downwards.
Donna Summer shortly
comes to Britain, for two
dates at the Rainbow
Theatre in London, an
ambitious concert debut
based on a handful of disco-orientated hit
singles; pre-tour publicity, you might
consider, is at a premium. Meanwhile in Rome,
the plot thickens.
Contact is made and interview requested,
but Donna is off shopping now. See you at the
press conference at three, says Christy Hill,
the gangly American lady from Casablanca,
her American record company. Yeah, but
what about our interview? Theres

no interview, theres just a press
conference. A PRESS CON-FERENCE! OK, is that clear enough?
demands Hill ferociously.
The superior calm of the Hilton is
disturbed as a fierce argument breaks
out. The Pye representation from
England are naturally furious, and the
press baffled the Daily Mirror had
scheduled a whole page for their next
issue on the revelations of Ms Summer.
A couple of hours later Donnas
manager Ron De Blasio is traced, but is
totally uncompromising. He doesnt
care how far weve come, Donnas
doing a press conference, but no
interviews. Whats more, her concert in
Rome tonight is sold out and theres no way
we can be wangled in to see it. I detect
a distinct note of hostility, said Ms Hill.
No, dear, whatever gives you that idea?
Donna arrives for the press conference
20 minutes late, as befits a big star, for
that is evidently what she is. A determined
lady from Boston, she made her mark on
showbusiness in Europe appearing in the
German production of Hair.
She knew she wanted to be a singer
ever since hearing Mahalia Jackson when
she was a kid and finally got there three
years ago via various theatrical projects
and modelling, when she met Pete
Bellotte and Giorgio Moroder.
There were a couple of hits in Europe
before Bellotte and Moroder came up
with Love To Love You Baby and Donna
breathed and grunted her way to
international stardom in the styles that
Jane Birkin had achieved such notoriety
with a few years before.
Press conferences are usually totally
useless affairs at the best of times, but Ive
never seen anything like this. Flanked by De
Blasio and an interpreter, Donna, looking
pretty and demure, signals shes ready and
the chaos that follows suggests Benito
Mussolini has just risen from the dead.
Ken Jenour (Mirror) and I had hatched an
evil plot to register our protest with some
embarrassing questions, but this was
obviously out as any semblance of order was
immediately lost in the babble of excitable
Italians fighting to get their
point across to Donna.
Every woman likes to be
considered sexy, she says,
in answer to the obvious
question about being
a sex bomb. Thats a nice
feeling, but its not the only
way I like people to think of
me. I would like to be known
as a good singer and a good performer to the
end of my life.
And to the next inevitable question,
her attitude to feminism, she responds,
I think that all people should be treated
the same for the work they do. A man is still
a man, thank God, and a woman is still a
womanthank God. Cheers and more
babble greet this profundity.
If everyone had
my telephone
number I can
only give so much
We really have
nothing to say
MM OCT 15 John Lennon is retiring
sort of. Weve decided to be
with our baby as much as we can.
John Lennon
outside the dakota
building in new
York city, 1977
The Japanese questions were hardly

penetrating, however. Many of them
concerned the death of Elvis Presley.
Elvis died when he went into the army,
Lennon replied. Up until he joined the army
I thought it was beautiful music, and Elvis was
for me and my generation what The Beatles
were to the 60s. I basically became a musician
because of Elvis Presley.
I never did concerts to influence people, he
answered one questioner. I did them for many
reasons. And since 1966 I have not performed
for money, only for charity.
Responding, therefore, to a question about
The Beatles reviving, he replied, I doubt it
very much.
Lennon was also asked
about punk rock, and
seemed very out of touch
with music of the past year.
After almost 45 tentative
minutes, Lennon and Yoko
closed the shop, and all that
Lennon would add later was
that he would be coming to Britain at some
point. He appeared unconcerned both about
returning and about recording again. His last
album, Rock nRoll, was released a couple of
years ago. Nor would he comment on the fact
that his contract has now ended with EMI.
The birth of the couples child and the
atmosphere of Japan seem to have made him
remarkably contented. Basically, Im now a
Zen pagan, he said. Perhaps that explains it.
Michael Watts
I became a
musician because
of Elvis Presley
Entirely amicable
MM NOV 12 Theres a
split in Black Sabbath.
zzie [sic] osbourne, singer with Black Sabbath since the band formed nine years
ago in Birmingham, has quit. His decision came after a meeting with the band last week,
and he said his departure is entirely amicable. He has left the band to follow some form
of solo career, but exactly what is planned has not yet been announced.
Black Sabbath are now looking for a replacement singer, and a vocalist with a fairly wellknown band flew in from America this week for an
audition. The band was planning an album when
Osbourne decided to quit, and as soon as a singer has
been found, rehearsals will go ahead. The record will be
recorded in Toronto before Christmas, and is due for
release in the spring to coincide with a British tour.
Sniggers drift round the room as the

next question is unveiled, even the
translator allowing herself a grin. Its from
a gentleman, apparently Israeli, who wants
to know why she had to surround herself by
so many people and isnt more accessible to
the media. Right on.
She stumbles a bit on that one
The problem is people dont realise that
an artist, well, I dont get very much sleep
and if everyone had my telephone
number well, I can only give so much.
And then, more belligerently: In
American we were selling before the radio
and the television and everyone knew about
me it proves the market is sometimes
stronger than the media.
What was that about treating the press
with grace? The questioner persists.
Im gonna punch you, sir, says Donna,
laughing dismissively. The conference
rapidly disintegrates. By sheer volume,
eventually we get through. Jenour quotes
her own headlines back at her first lady of
love the biggest cock-teaser of all time.
I never said that, I dont talk that way,
snaps Donna, although nobody suggested
she had. Every person has a different
expectation of me; it doesnt bear any
relevance to me.
Jenour and I battle our way to the front
and plant ourselves in front of Donna, now
signing autographs and shutting her ears off
from the babble. She looks across in surprise
at our presumptuousness, and, I believe,
some fear. I ask her if she was surprised by
the storm Love To Love You Baby caused
in Britain. Yeah, I mean some of the lyrics
these rock bands sing I just sang an erotic
song, thats all. I didnt expect a reaction like
that, not in England of all places.
She raises her eyes skywards as the Italian
hubbub intensifies and theres a battery of
photographers enclosing us. I cant handle
this, she mutters. Lets go to another room
and continue the interview in peace, I say.
She hesitates. I see De Blasio watching
from the end of the room. Im sorry, theres
nowhere to go. Well, theres the bar, or the
hotel foyer. Im sorry, Id like to, but I havent
the time. Ive got to go straight to a rehearsal
and then to the concert. Really, Im sorry.
The girl theyre trying to mould into a
superstar was then hustled away.
Ken Jenour calls the Mirror in London.
The space allocated to Donna Summer goes
instead to Mud. Colin Irwin
ohn Lennon is officially semiretired, and will not perform or

record for at least another year. He
told a press conference at the Hotel Okura
in Tokyo last Tuesday that he and Yoko
Ono wanted to devote their time to their
son, Sean Ono Lennon.
Weve basically decided, without a great
decision, to be with our baby as much as
we can until we feel we can take the time
off to indulge ourselves in creating things
outside the family, Lennon announced.
Maybe when hes three, four or five, then well
think about creating something else other
than the child.
The Lennons have been in Japan since May,
and one of the purposes of their visit was to
show the child, now about two years old, to his
in-laws. Lennon took his stay so seriously that
he enrolled in a Japanese language course in
New York before he went.
The press conference, at which the Melody
Maker was the only western paper present,
was called just before their return to New York,
which will continue to be their main home.
Lennon later told me that
their only motive was to
thank the Japanese people
for respecting their privacy
while there.
Although perceptibly
nervous, he looked in
tremendous physical
shape. Wearing an
expensive black, two-piece suit, with a white
shirt and pearl-grey tie, and with his hair in
a smart, conventional cut, he sat beside Yoko,
who translated and did most of the talking.
Incense burned, and an incongruous note was
struck by a radio somewhere in the penthouse
suite playing You Are My Sunshine.
I was forbidden to ask direct questions,
and after the conference Lennon remained
friendly but noncommittal. We really have
nothing to say, he explained.
1977
OCTO B E R DECEMBER
People tell me
were political
kevin cummins / getty
utumn the world a coppergold shade of dying? Nuclear

omni-destruction the shrieking
tumble of the Bomb before the fallout?
Woman and mans expulsion from Paradise in
the Christian fairytale? Or the toppling of
capitalism by revolution?
As The Fall say, their name is so evocative
that itd be almost criminal to select any one
meaning and evict all others. The new bands
certainly seem to choose better names than
the old I mean, The Beatles, the Rolling
Stones? The Fourmost? What kind of names
are those?
The Fall hit hard. Not with the sledgehammer superficiality of the sub-Ramones
clones/drones, but ingeniously intellectually,
I suppose. Their attack is more cerebral on all
fronts than is usual within these street-gut
shores. Their lyrics (nearly all indiscernible in
concert) are oblique, and occasionally
esoteric enough to necessitate explanation;
they all look very sharp, yet cool and detached,
especially the blond axis of vocalist/lyricist
Mark Smith and organist Una Baines; and their
music is probably clever before its powerful.
That cleverness isnt meant to suggest
a link with art rock, that brightly contrived
fringe, thought The Fall have intelligence and
a readiness to experiment with form in
common with that genre.
Even their formal adventurousness,
though, is of an entirely different order from,
say, Talking Heads clinical variation The Fall
take the repetition and the monotonous
vocals which have flooded the country in the
past year and develop them into something
positive and exciting.
They even have a song called Repetition,
perhaps their finest, which is ambitious
despite revolving entirely around an
omnipotent two-chord core-thread, Martin
Bramahs guitar twanging trebly in a
calculatedly tacky radio-signal sound the
closest reference point is probably Buzzcocks
Boredom, though Im not exactly sure why.
Like Buzzcocks with Spiral Scratch, The Fall
the Fall at the ranch,

manchesters first punk
club, on August 18, 1977:
(lr) una Baines, martin
Bramah, Karl Burns (drums),
mark e Smith and tony Friel
MM DEC 31 Introducing, from Manchester, The Fall. They are, insists

their frontman Mark Smith, far more multi-faceted than The Clash.
are making their first recorded foray with an

EP on Manchesters New Hormones label,
which will probably appear next month and
feature Repetition, Frightened (a slower,
more thoughtful, menacing number, which
relentlessly grinds out its evocation of
paranoia), Bingo-Masters Break-Out!,
and Psycho Mafia the last being the song
which has haunted me most in the two months
since I first saw them.
Mark Smiths intonation is always intensely
cynical (if thats possible) and usually
deliberately tuneless, and both those traits
come into their own in this fragmented
warning about the Thought Police of the
present. Psycho Mafia was probably one of
the songs that led to them being branded an
exclusively political band the first time they
ever appeared in print it was as a totally
committed socialist band who, like Henry
Cow, would have trouble coming to terms
with a commercial art form.
They were grossly misrepresented, they say,
though tales of Una furiously berating other
Manchester musicians backstage over their
sexism, as well as exchanges
like the following, show that
they come from quite a long
way left. Id mentioned to
them that Id heard they
used to refuse all college
gigs, and to sing Oh
Student! instead of Hey
Fascist!. Una: I didnt
think wed been going long
enough to have a history,
(its only eight months since Una and
drummer Karl Burns joined and the bands life
began in earnest).
Mark: One of the reasons we changed that
was that its become very trendy to bash
students. The sentiments still there maybe,
but the main reason we changed it to Hey
Fascist! was that we thought it more relevant.
So what does the song say now? Its an
anti-fascist song, said Una, what else is there
to say? She glared at me with a challenging
glint in her eye, as she did till at least halfway

through the interview, when we finally
decided we liked each other. I was glad she
didnt know that only a few months before Id
been one of the reviled student breed.
But do all of you stand on the left?
Martin: Yeah, well none of us are fascists.
Not everyone outside the left is a fascist
Yes, they are, retorted Una in her
laconic monotone, Theyre just watereddown fascists. Were talking about the
same mentality.
You reckon? I dont at all
Mark: Theyve got no mentality.
That exchange makes them seem very
confident, both in themselves and in their
views, and thats just how they appear on
stage they all implicitly express a distance
from punk by wearing nondescript casual
gear (whens the last time you saw a new waver
wearing a sweater?).
Una looks icily uninterested, a fully paid-up
member of the Tina Weymouth detachment
school; and Mark reminds me visually of a
committed but cynical street-level activist.
Yet when Mark sent me
the lyrics to Hey Fascist!
later on, he didnt seem at
all confident of the worth
of his work, heading it
with Pretentious Garbage
Inc 1977.
Martin, Karl and Tony
(Friel, their bassist, whos on
the brink of leaving) agree
that theyre less politically
committed than the other two and are in it
more for the music. Well what dyou think
were in it for? said Una, on the attack again.
I dunno to communicate a political belief?
Una: No way the musics very important.
Martin: People try to tie us down too
much weve got other things besides the
political angle. Were not in this band to put
over the beliefs of any political party or even
our own political ideas exclusively though
in our political songs we mean what we
The Clash set up

things and knock
em down like the
police, employers
OCTOBERDECEMBER
1977
The Radiators
From Space,
currently touring
with Thin Lizzy,
release their third
single on Chiswick
on Friday week.
Prison Bars is in
mono and taken
from their TV Tube
Heart LP. MM Nov 12
december 25, 1977: Sid

Vicious and girlfriend
nancy Spungen at a Pistols
benefit gig for the children
of striking firefighters at
Ivanhoes, huddersfield
Only advertised locally

MM DEC 17 The Sex Pistols plan to tour. Discreetly,
to keep local objections down to a minimum.
n Friday this week the Sex Pistols kick off on their first
official British tour since their debut Anarchy In The UK
dates. The band will be playing a straight run of 10 dates,
finishing on Christmas Day, but there is the possibility of a
further show being added for London audiences on Boxing Day.
While the concerts have been officially confirmed by Cowbell, the
bands booking agency, and booked openly in the Sex Pistols name,
there is still some secrecy about the exact location of the venues and
the final bookings will only be advertised locally within a few days
of the shows.
Cowbells John Jackson said that the details of the venues and
concert dates are being kept a last-minute secret, even from
Virgin Records, the bands record company, and from the group
themselves. Despite the secrecy, Jackson still fears problems
from local authorities, but he has worked out a complex strategy
involving two alternative tours if local authorities or police revoke
licences at the last minute.
The shows will be advertised locally as the Sex Pistols, but the
advertising will be very close to the date to keep the possibility
of local objections down to a minimum and to ensure a fair
distribution of tickets. The tickets for the first show will go on sale
the day before the concert.
Jackson confirmed that the 10 shows will be played in the
following areas of Britain: North London, East Anglia, the West
Country, Merseyside, two in North Yorkshire, East Midlands, two in
the West Midlands, and one south of London outside the GLC area.
One show that has already been advertised and sold well is at
Bristols Bamboo Club on December 21.
Tickets for the shows cost 1.75, although one promoter has been
offering them at 2.50. Jackson
said that anyone who has
paid more than 1.75 for a
legitimate ticket will get the
balance refunded when they
go to the show.
Julie Covington,
who came to fame
with Jesus Christ
Superstar and Evita,
releases her version
of Alice Coopers
Only Women
Bleed on Friday.
The Virgin single
features orchestral
arrangements
by John Cale,
who appears
on keyboards.
MM Nov 12
Charles Mingus,
the influential jazz
bass player and
composer, has had
to cancel a one-off
concert at Londons
Hammersmith
Odeon on Nov 30.
MM Nov 12
Rocknroll singer
Shakin Stevens has
been selected to
play the part of
young Elvis Presley
in Jack Goods
musical Elvis, which
opens at Londons
Astoria Theatre on
November 28.
Sixties singer PJ
Proby will play
Presley after the
age of 40 in the
musical. Good, the
man responsible for
the famous Oh Boy!
TV show of the late
1950s, is producing
and directing the
stage show, and
music is provided by
Fumble. Stevens
band the Sunsets
will play their
planned dates
without him, with
vocals taken by
drummer Rocker
Louie and pianist
Ace. MM Nov 12
Ray stevenson / ReX; DaviD ashDown / getty
say, we didnt form as a political band.

Una: But if you sing about life, youre
singing politically. Politics is life and society
in its perversity has made it into something
else. But God, weve covered it enough
lets talk about something else.
But Mark carried on anyway: This is
typical, getting bogged down in politics.
People come up to me and say, Youre the
only political band, and I reply, What about
Tom Robinson? Then they say, Yeah, but
youre really political, but its not true.
Theyre pushing us into the political
syndrome that The Clash have fallen into
and will never get out of their credibility
will diminish as they go on. The Clash set up
things and knock em down, like the police,
employers we do that too, but thats all
The Clash are doing.
Those people who tell me were
political, I think, You mean in the fucking
Clash way, dont you, and were not. I mean,
something like Bingo-Masters Break-Out!
is nothing to do with conventional politics. Its
about a bloke cracking up, partly funny and
partly not. And I think, Youve fucking
ignored that, havent you?
Youre not a very good songwriter if you
can only write about one dimension of life,
added Mark. You have to write what you feel.
One day you might be particularly angry at
fascism, have a real gut-reaction like you do
when you go on pickets like we do.
But there again, its difficult to feel things
when youre away from the original situation,
it feels a little forced. Like Race Hatred,
another of our songs this lot want to
rehearse it but I cant sing about racial hatred
again and again till I get it right because Id
lose all feeling for it. And as lyrics they dont
stand up on their own; the song only works
when its full of live feeling.
As yet no major company has expressed
interest in The Fall, which must be largely to
do with their refusal (like Buzzcocks) to leave
Manchester for the brightest lights and the
biggest cheques. Again, theres some kind of
split between Mark and Una and the others on
the question of commercial success. Martin,
Karl and Tony come out with the same old
guarded new-wave phrases about success like
We wont change our style, well stay like us
if people like us, then we wont turn them
away and well plough the money back into
cheaper tickets and albums if we make it.
They mean it now so does just about every
young band I talk to but success sucks you in
so smoothly and completely that you hardly
notice youre keeping all the money you make.
The only way to escape corruption is to
avoid commercial success from the first, and
Mark reckons the way the band play might act
as a commercial self-destruct unit: I really
dont see us getting into that kind of position
anyway. If we did thered be something
wrong, because our musical approach now
could never win us massive popularity
something would have detracted if we did.
Una: Huge commercial success doesnt
interest me personally at all. Apart from
anything else, I cant imagine enjoying an
audience response if it was so predictable.
Tony: Hey, could we talk about music?
What on earth for? Chris Brazier
1977
O C T O B E R D ECEMBER
Whats a
normal
person?
Keiths drug bust, vomiting journalists,
punk rock MICK JAGGER floats effortlessly
above it all. Bad circumstances develop,
says Mick, and once you get a bad
reputation its very hard to shake it off.
W
gjisbert hanekroot / getty
MELODY MAKER OCTOBER 15
e hear, Michael,that Robert Plant is going

to join the Rolling Stones if Keith is sent down for
100 years. Robert Plant! Whats ee going to play?
Jaggers face, that eternal face, that has grinned
nay, leered at us for what seems like a lifetime of
rocknroll, broke into an expression of such amused
derision that the Devil himself might reel back in confusion.
Mick fends off the buffets of the world with a sense of humour that has
scarcely altered since the days when the Stones were the apple of Andrew
Oldhams eye. Whatever storms break about his head, as
the worlds press steams on with headlines about the
future of the Stones, or Mick and Bianca, or Keith And His
Latest Bust, whatever the current furore about rude album
covers or snipes at punk rock, Mick sails through it all with
a grunt of mock despair, or just the hint of anger in his
expressive eyes.
What astounds me about Jagger in 77 is his tolerance,
his patience and concern for others. For a man constantly
called an egotist, he is remarkable self-effacing and
mindful of his fellow man. For example, when I was
suddenly and quite violently sick during the course of our
interview, he leapt to his feet and pointed out the quickest
route to the gentlemans convenience.
I had looked forward to swilling a few cans of beer with
Mick as he hit a bottle of brandy and we talked of the great
days of rhythm and blues. But unfortunately, while he
stood up to the effects of alcohol with all the panache of
an experienced trooper, I began to keel over and collapsed
on the sofa.
When I go on the
road, I become a
total monster:
Mick Jagger in
London, 1977
1977
Didnt you eat? inquired Mick with surprising solicitude (some rock
stars would merely ring for a secretary and ask that the interviewer be
hurled from the premises). You shouldnt drink on an empty stomach.
I ate. Two of those things and he pointed to the battered remains of
a pair of hamburgers.
I stumbled away from the unedifying spectacle, but after a few difficult
moments was able to return and continue a cross-examination of one of
the Living Legends Of Our Time.
ick made a surprise appearance in London Town last
week, having jetted in from New York for business meetings.
It has been suggested in some quarters that he was primarily
interested in helping, by publicity, to promote the last album for
Warner Brothers, the double Love You Live. This is a practice not
entirely without precedent in the rock business, but Mick did not seem
over-worried about Loves evolution, contents or fate. He has, after all,
made quite a few records in his career and one more Stones album is
not exactly a cause for bouts of ecstasy.
Master Jagger arrived in our midst wearing white trousers and a pink
shirt. I came in from New York last night, he revealed. Id been there
a few days hustling the album, doing radio and TV. He was a bit indistinct
as he was still munching a hamburger at the time.
Had Mick been listening to the exciting new music that was going to
change the rock world as we know it?
Well (munch munch) you have to listen to a lot of bad stuff before
you find anything good. And he indicated a great pile of new-wave
singles on his desk by Chelsea, Electric Chairs, etc. I went to a few clubs
in New York, all those ones on the same street. I dunno. It was all like the
night before last. Another world. Its starting to happen in London at
Covent Garden. You bin to the Rock Garden? They have some very good
bands there. Some are good, some are quite awful.
Its like listening to reggae records. You hear 20 singles and find one
good one. Its a lotta work listening to bands. Sure, I always go out. Thats
what I wanna do when I go out, listen to bands. Sure, I see more bands
than movies. I like to check out the ones that are supposed to be good.
I like to go to clubs that have six bands on in one night, and you see em
all and cant remember their names! But I go to concerts and clubs all
the time. I dont get excited about records, Id rather see the bands live.
A lot of the new bands dont record well anyway. Ive got some
here the Squeeze Right To Work by Chelsea, thats terrible.
What will happen next in the great Stones saga?
Were going into the studio and were going to start
recording our next album in Europe.
Keith will be able to play on that one?
Yeah, no problems. He can leave the States, go
back and forward, they seem to be very sweet
about it. I dont know whats going to happen
to him in Canada, though. Ive no idea.
Something will happen eventually, but I dont
know what. The trial is on December 2nd
unless they put it back again. This seems to
be a tough one. Well see. Yeah, Ive been
worrying about it, but its much more
worrying for Keith than it is for me.
Had he made any contingency plans?
No, I cant make plans until I know
whats going to happen. Because anything
can happen and well just have to meet it
as it comes.
There had been many wild suggestions
as to who might replace Keith Richard
in the Stones if he was sent to prison
in Canada.
Well, Ive just said I cant say what is
going to happen. They might put him on
probation. He might have to report to
Canada every week. They could make him
live in Toronto, or go into hospital. They can
He gets in trouble
do anything they want. I cant make any
a lot, right?: Keith
Richards in April 1977,
plans for all those possibilities. We just
a few weeks after he
hope they are going to be fair about it.
was arrested in Toronto
and charged with
Did you have a row with Keith about the
trafficking in heroin
problem he had caused the Stones?
getty
No.
Was he annoyed at him getting into dire straits?
Well I never like it when he gets into trouble. We dont row about it
But it places the Stones in jeopardy, surely?
If he gets put away for a long time, it certainly does, said Mick irritably.
He does get into trouble a lot, right? But hes been very good lately, and
Mick almost whispered this last comment as he busied himself with the
remnants of the hamburger. So I just hope everything goes well for him
and that we dont have to worry about all these things one reads about.
Yeah, of course I want the band to continue. Were supposed to be
touring next year. I just keep thinking about it very positively. We want to
make a new album. A single. Go on the road in the spring, so Im just going
ahead and planning it. I mean, really? The thing is, I dont know any more
than anybody else.
Youll be at the trial, I guess?
Yeah, I guess. Im not even looking forward to going back to Toronto, let
me tell you. And the press havent been very happy with me. They keep on
and on at me, and I tell them, I dont know any more, I promise. And they
keep asking if Jimmy Page is going to join the Stones.
Wasnt it Robert Plant?
Robert Plant! Mick burst into laughter. Whats ee going to play?
Tambourine?
So what was going to be the future policy of the Stones, so far as he
could say?
The band has never really had a policy, even when Brian was in charge
of it and he wrote it down on bits of paper. So we have been policy-less. But
every year we change. This is like a different band now. The last album we
did in the studio was very mixed. We had three or four different guitar
players, so it was difficult to make. This one is going to be more tight. Its
difficult to say before we get started. It might turn out to be rubbish.
Next year well be working really hard, insisted Mick. This year the
touring part was really screwed up by Keiths thing. When you are under
that kind of pressure, its no fun to be on the road. In all these different
countries, you have endless customs checks. In every country you feel you
are going to be busted. If anybody is on bail, they certainly do watch you.
They go through you at the customs, and that applies to
everyone with you. Its a hassle. I was on bail once when we
were on the road and it was a nightmare. I was at the airport
for six hours. I was on bail in England and I was going to
Switzerland from America, at the end of 1969. I had the
trial in 1970. That was for marijuana.
You did spend a few hours in prison?
More than hours. Days! Mick shook with suppressed
mirth. It was about four or five. That was enough. Enough to
put me off wanting to go, I can tell you. It was orrible. It was really
weird. A strange existence. You just dont want to get involved if
you can avoid it. I remember asking the guy if I could go out for
exercise, cos it was the exercise period. And the guy said, You
dont want to go out there with all those criminals, do you?
I had to get a job. Because in prison everyone had a job.
I was going to be put down for a librarian, but I never did get
to see what the scope was. Before you are convicted they
treat you differently. You can keep your own clothes and
everything. Then you have to wear the prison clothes.
I wasnt there long enough for that. A guy threw a
newspaper into my cell. It was The Times with an
editorial piece on me. I got out by the afternoon. Of
course I didnt want to go back, but Ive been in prison
since, in Rhode Island near Boston. I was in prison there in
1975 [sic 1972] for a little while. Got arrested for trying to
stop Keith being arrested. Obstructing the course of justice.
I think I said, Ere, dont do that, weve got a concert to do.
OK, you too. Keith had hit somebody and was arrested. It was
probably a journalist, like you. Oh, it was too awful. But nothing
happened in the case.
Some people would say the Stones were just plain irresponsible.
Yeah, I guess. Its just an accumulation of different events and
people. Bad circumstances develop, and once you get a bad reputation
its very hard to shake it off. Some bands around now get a bad
reputation and thats it. Its the same in a bar. A guy has a bad reputation
and he always gets picked on. One tends to get drawn into these things.
From my own experience, once youve got it, youre stuck with it. This
country has got to be the worst place for that.
rolling stones
Other countries are ready to

accept you may be different but
take you at face value. Here they
never forget anything you may
have done in the past. I dont see
how our image is ever going to
change here. They dont want it to
change do they?
I was violent when I was younger,
but most people are violent for a
while when theyre young, arent
they? You have a punch-up once,
but you dont want a punch-up all
the time, do you? I met a guy the
other day I really wanted to throttle.
It was at a party and I was sitting
there shaking. I managed to control myself but
I told him I was going to thump him. I gave him
one minute to get out and he said, Why?
What had he done to upset Jagger?
He was a journalist.
Oh, it wasnt Anthony Scaduto by any chance?
No, it wasnt Scaduto. Bad luck! Yeah, I saw his
piece on me in the Daily Mirror. Whats wrong
with him?
Scaduto, an American, had written a biography
of Jagger that Mick detested and recently wrote
a Mirror piece about Micks marriage to Bianca.
Hes a sick person, said Mick vehemently.
I wouldnt give him 60 seconds. Ive never
met him. He wrote me an insulting letter,
a threatening letter saying that if I didnt work with him on his book he
was going to write terrible things about me, and I dont like to be
threatened. The book was awful, it really was. Just rubbish. Hes a very
bad biographer and I have no respect for him.
He talked about Jagger watchers in his Mirror piece.
Its all so far removed from reality. All that stuff you read in the papers
about me and Bianca, its like a page out of someone elses life. It has no
relation to me at all. Its completely made up.
What about the dramatic events on the yacht in the Mediterranean,
where Mick was supposed to be making a last-ditch rescue attempt on his
marriage? He looked amazed.
That was completely made up. How could they know what was going
on? Its all so crazy. The summer is the worst time cos they have so little to
write about. It used to be the silly season. Now its called the sick season.
I think they really must have run out of news. They think youre fair game,
but its a bit annoying. Thank God I dont live here all the time now. If I did it
would be a nightmare. England, Germany and Italy are the worst countries
for gossip. Here they just write pages. But theres nothing new about it. It
used to be movie stars. They dished the dirt on everyone in Hollywood.
Have you ever read Hollywood Babylon? They dished everyone and a lot
of those scandals were made up. And it affected their careers in those days
a lot more than it does now. Big movie companies would drop people if they
got into trouble. They would protect them to a certain point and then if
there was real trouble theyd drop them and their career would be finished.
I know in certain instances record companies arent keen to take on
a band because of their image, like EMI and the Sex Pistols. Because the
group behaved in a certain way, the company just kicked them out.
Did Decca ever threaten to drop the Stones because of their behaviour
in the early days?
No, they were more sanguine about us. I think EMI were a bit shortsighted about the Pistols. Ive already told them that! [The Stones are now
signed to EMI for their next album.] I told them I could go on television
and say even worse things than the Pistols did! I said, Are you gonna fire
us? They said No. Theyd better not! Maybe Ill try them out.
What did the Pistols do at A&M? They wrecked the office? We wrecked
several offices at WEA but after we signed.
Mick laughed and began pacing about the room. I thought he was
looking for items of furniture to smash, but in fact he was in search of
more brandy.
Why did he sign to EMI?
I got severely criticised because I wouldnt tell somebody else. Its not
really anything to do with you or anybody else. I could put it in a few
I think EMI
were a bit
short-sighted
about the
Pistols
words, but nobody would

understand it. EMI are very
alive. I was amazed. I thought
theyd be like Decca. That was my
image of them. But they seem to be
really jumping.
Itll be interesting to work
with some new people. Thats one
of the reasons we signed with
them. Were still with Atlantic in
America. Its EMI for the rest of the
world and Britain.
Own up, there are millions of
dollars involved.
Oh, there are a few pennies,
Chris. Well, there is quite a lot of
money. But weve got to sell a lot of records.
If we dont then theres not a lot of money.
Its the same with any group. If you sell a lot
of records, then the record company will
make a fortune. If you dont, then they get
nowhere. Weve only had two record
companies in, er, 14 years.
ick is a traveller. He never seems

to stop still in one place for long.
I love it when people tell me Im so
settled down and domesticated. For me its
one hotel to the next. I rented a house in New
York for a while, which was nice. Id never
done that before. Ive always lived in hotels.
I do try and hang out with different kinds of people, but Im usually
around music-business people. You find yourself going to studios on a
busmans holiday singing back-up vocals.
I was going back to college for a while, but I never made it. Im a real
drop-out. I wanted to do comparative religion and history, but just
couldnt take three months off and go every day. I found myself having to
work, and Im just too lazy.
I need three months off from music, but I can never get them. The
Stones just roll on, by their own volition. Not by anybody elses volition.
Weve not had a manager for years. Cant bear them.
So dont you fucking start, he glowered suddenly. Im so sorry why
do I put on this terrible act? Everybody gets so scared. I went to this most
peculiar club in London which was full of kids and old men. And I told this
old man to get out of my seat. I said, Fuck off. And this guy was, like,
trembling. The place was full of old men with young girls.
It wasnt the Marquee?
The Marquee! No, course not. Mick began to muse on the meaning of
life, his role in rocknroll and the strange forces at work upon us all.
Im afraid most rocknroll stars are just interested in themselves. You
go on a stage you get egotistical, of course you do. You think you are
really important and youre not. I dont think anyone in rocknroll is
important. Were all full of shit. As a performer you do need an ego, but
that doesnt mean its any good.
Youve been called egotistical.
But I am sometimes. You have to be.
Does Mick meet enough normal people?
Is there such a thing as a normal person? Whats a normal person?
I think Im normal. But most people think Im not. I dont like to mix with
sycophants, but most bands do. They want to hear people tell them how
great they are. Its a constant massaging of the ego. But everybody needs
that, at least for a few minutes a day! It keeps you sane.
But I think Im going through a sane period. Im really well adjusted.
But thats just because I havent been on the road. When I go on the road,
I just go CRAZY. I become a total monster. I dont recognise anybody;
I dont even see them. Who are you? Forget it. Go away. Who are you?
From the MM? Forget it. Get out. I dont want to see you. Ill give you two
minutes! Im doing my makeup, get out!
What a terrible monster I am. I feel guilty about it afterwards, then
I laugh, because the whole thing is a joke. But Keith is worse than I am.
Is he a prima donna? Oh yeah!
Monsters or not, the Stones will be back again on the road soon. And if
Keith cant make it, well theres always the MM small ads. Chris Welch
1977
The Clash in Belfast,

October 1977: (lr)
Joe Strummer, Mick
Jones, Paul Simonon
and Topper Headon
adrian boot
Desolation
and chaos
THE CLASH visit Belfast, and find no one will insure them to
play their gig. As tempers flare, the band confront the reality
of their era. We got a lightning tour of what was happening,
says Mick Jones. The group stuck out like a sore thumb.
1977
Leaving the fortified

Europa Hotel, The Clash
and their photographer
take a taxi and venture
beyond Belfast city centre
MELODY MAKER OCTOBER 29

mpotence might be described as having to apologise for
something that wasnt your fault. When complete control
becomes remote control. Last Thursday in Belfast, The Clash
were confronted with such a freeze-out.
The date not only marked the opening of their current UK tour,
but also the first time a major British punk/new wave/now band
had played in the strife-racked city. Joe Strummer remarked that they
had wanted to play the venue ever since the group formed last year,
and consequently were itching for the stage of the Ulster Hall, where
the event was supposed to take place. But once again the Faceless Ones
who transform people into puppets stepped in at the 11th hour and
refused permission
However, lets start at the beginning of the invidious fiasco. Perhaps the
minor irritants that happened in the morning could now be interpreted
as omens for the later catastrophe.
We all arrived at the airport to find that the tuner had been left in the
cab and the carnet (the official document for transporting equipment
from Northern Ireland to Eire) forgotten. Soundman Micky Foote was
dispatched to gather up the missing links and so had to catch a later
adrian boot
plane. Plus the plane itself was

delayed because of the air traffic
controllers industrial dispute.
Then through security (the guard
jokingly described his Evil Presence
detector as a Dan Dare gun) and
onto the plane, where conversation
turned unnervingly to talk of the
recent Baader-Meinhof hijacking.
Not, you can understand, the most
comforting of topics at 8.30am on
a plane to Belfast. Spirits picked up
as Paul Simonon leaned over to
announce that his word for the day
was synopsis. Eh?
We were about to land and the
stewardess made the customary
announcement that anyone
carrying foods or livestock
should report to the Ministry
Of Agriculture. Mick Jones
shouted out, That includes me!
Im a chicken!
Another cab ride followed and
initiation into Belfast began. Scenes
of endless devastation, urban
wasteland, rows or terraced houses
that had been reduced to (and by)
shells, the windows boarded up
with grey breezeblock slabs.
The driver was like a surreal
tourist guide. Passing yet another
gutted pub, his meticulous memory
threw out a brief history of the
events behind the attack. How
many people were killed when it
happened, what the backlash had
been. If you look up that street on
the left, two men were killed last
month in a firebomb raid, etc. One
building he singled out was what
remained of the Youth Employment
Exchange, now enmeshed in a wire
cage. Joe and Mick understandably
gave it a lingering glance.
Late that day Mick mused, Black
is the predominant colour here.
The first thing I saw in Belfast was
hundreds of blackbirds.
He added in a lighter tone,
Joe thought they were crows, but
they werent crows because crows
have dark glasses and saxophones. The movie Fritz The Cat takes on
a different meaning in Belfast.
We arrived at the hotel, the Europa, similarly fenced off by a wire
boundary and security outpost, to find out that it has the dubious claim
to fame of being the most bombed hotel in Europe. Everything seemed to
be going well until about 4pm, when yours truly was in the pub awaiting
the band for a pre-soundcheck Guinness or two.
Suddenly drummer Nicky Headon rushed in: Youve got to come back
to the hotel. The gig has been cancelled. Whaaaat????
ne of the promoters was waiting with the story so far. The
gig had been organised by the Northern Ireland Polytechnic
and they had genuinely believed that all aspects had been
accounted for. All but one, as it transpired: the insurance.
To secure the Ulster Hall (which is run by the Belfast City Council and
not officially connected with the Polytechnic) what is known as an
insurance cover note is needed to underwrite any unforeseen mishaps
that might occur. It is a stipulation made by the Hall. Three weeks
previously, the Medical And Professional Insurance, who handle the
Polytechnics affairs in this respect, apparently assured the Polytechnics
entertainments committee that the cover note would not pose any
the clash
problems. It would simply be an extension of their existing cover for the

Students Union.
However, come Thursday morning, the committee were informed
that the offer of insurance had been withdrawn allegedly because
there were outstanding claims arising out of previous Clash concerts.
This the band later refuted as entirely untrue. Anyway, the committee
feverishly tried to find an insurance broker, both in Ireland and on the
mainland, who would be prepared to underwrite the concert. No one
was forthcoming even after they themselves had offered a premium of
500. So an alternative plan was suggested: switch the venue to Queens
University. But that also proved fruitless as they couldnt accept the
responsibility, not having the requisite insurance.
Since the event looked doomed, the Polytechnic promoters asked the
local radio and TV to announce that the gig had been cancelled. By this
time the fans had started to congregate outside the doors of Ulster Hall.
The police turned up and told them the news. In despair, frustration and
anger they stormed round to the Europa Hotel, pulling at the wire fence
and demanding to see The Clash. An official
from Queens Student Body arrived and said
they could play in a smaller hall in the university
the bar, in fact, as opposed to the originally
mooted main concert arena.
Nicky and Paul explained this to the fans, who
duly rushed towards the seat of learning. The
site wasnt ideal by any means, but it was better
than nothing. The Ulster Hall has a capacity of
1,600, while the bar holds only around 400 and,
due to the liquor licence, was barred to those
under 18. Just to compound the seriousness of
the situation, news was also coming in that
several of the hotels that the band had secured
for the tour had cancelled the bookings.
Nicky was horrified: Sometimes I think
I might just slash my wrists and maybe then
theyd see what theyre doing to us.
The last time The Clash had tried to play in Britain was at the
Birmingham Rag Market festival in July, virtually subtitled
The last big event before we all go to jail, and that had collapsed
under a torrent of bans.
The next move was to dismantle all the gear that had been so far
erected in the Ulster Hall and to move to Queens. The kids were
amassing outside the university entrance (800 advance tickets
had been already sold and obviously many more punters were
emerging on the night itself). It was both an odd and potentially
hysterical situation.
The police and army were there in force, but looked confused,
to say the least, by the spectacle. They werent acclimatised to
such a congregation. Instead, the mayhem gathered momentum.
The old obstacles were rearing their oppressive faces again. A
white riot was feared and insurance cover stayed as inaccessible
as it had been all day. In addition, the roadies were unhappy with
the stage. It didnt boast the most reliable structure.
In the dressing room, the band smouldered. But there was
nothing they could do without incurring massive repercussions
from almost every legal side. Unfortunately, the only course of
action was to leave. They were trapped in contracts that cared
zilch about providing entertainment for rocknroll-starved kids.
First Joe and Mick left, followed quickly by Nicky and Paul.
I was in the second batch, and as we came out by a side entrance
a bunch of about 40 kids were waiting. They pleaded with
Nicky and Paul to play, and in return the two band members
attempted to explain the trail of absurd events. But the words
were drowned out, and all the kids could see was that the group
they had, in many cases, travelled long distances to enjoy were
abandoning them.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. The group
and manager Bernie Rhodes had done virtually everything
they could to alleviate the 11th-hour chaos. The kids became
furious. Nicky and Paul left in the car, and as it drove off the fans
hurtled abuse, beer cans and whatever was available at the
departing vehicle.
When such an iron clampdown occurs, it must have its counterreaction. A few windows in the Ulster Hall were smashed, five
punks (three male and two female) were arrested and a pack of about
100 formed a human chain across Bedford Street.
ust remember, they mean it, maaaan. Back in the hotel the
atmosphere was one of terminal depression intercut with pure
anger. Three fans who were on the verge of forming their own
band had collared Joe, whose external belligerence belies an
incredibly sympathetic and understanding nature. The three blokes
were bitterly hurt, and Joe spent several hours clarifying the debacle
and offering advice about getting a group together. Two were
Protestant and one was Catholic, and in order to practise together they
ran the daily risk of all that such religious intermingling implies. Now
that makes the ludicrous struggles of the more pampered mainland
would-be stars look a trifle silly, dont you think?
The late-night news came on the TV. The first item was surprise,
surprise The Clash, the pared-down information giving no clear picture
of what ACTUALLY HAPPENED, Mick sneered.
The most horrible thing was the way the
kids were treated the way they were pushed
around. They didnt have a chance to
understand what was happening, so they were
disappointed in us. Obviously, it wasnt our
fault, but you cant explain that to 800 people
personally. The way theyve been pushed
around by the army and the police, they
obviously thought, What the fucks going on
here? They reacted accordingly. Everyone
acted the monkey they thought they would.
Like, its almost a night of freedom and they
can see it slipping through their hands while
policemen are crushing them. You dont look
for sane reasons. You just see the object, and
The horrible
thing was the
way the kids
were pushed
around
1977
Royal Ulster Constabulary

policemen pat down the
band, who at one point
were thought to be
members of the Ulster
Defence Association (UDA)
the object is The Clash and you aim for that.

You want to be assured that its going on and it
didnt. In two weeks time the insurance will
probably be worked out and The Stranglers
[set to play then] will come in and clean up, and
theyll reassure them. Meanwhile, for us the
kids were lining the street in front of armoured
cars. It was a scene of desolation and chaos.
I thought it was great that they lay down
in the road in front of those armoured cars
because they wanted the concert so badly. The
trouble is that its our first time here we and
dont know the situation and we cant go down
the police station and check it out, because we
dont know if we can walk down the block. Im
like a complete alien.
It was very self-conscious. It was a self-conscious way of getting your
own way in a situation which is so out of our control. No way are we
going to call the shots with guys with Bren guns standing outside and
beating on kids. In no way was it also giving up. We aint an army, were
a rocknroll band. Its like a band against the army and the Ulster
constabulary, who were only there in case of trouble, and the only trouble
was produced by the fact that this company wouldnt insure us. The
threat of half a million pounds meant nothing to me. They said, Do you
want to pay it yourself? so I said, Ill pay it myself. I meant it.
They couldnt get it off me, so throw me in jail. Its just a joke. I think
they had a lot more trouble here because of the fact that the concert
was cancelled than if they had let the concert go on. It was a complete
red herring.
hat afternoon, other bizarre

events had taken place. Mick and Joe
had gone to do an interview with the
local radio station, Downtown Radio. As
they stepped out of the car by the station,
the security had mistaken them for members
of the UDA. The reason was evidently their
clothes black zippered outfits, Doctor
Martens footwear, leather jackets, which
highlights the fine line between the (excuse
the possible pomposity) symbol and reality.
Again, what is de rigueur down the Vortex
takes on provocative implications in the
authentic war zone. In addition, during the
afternoon, we had all piled into a mini-bus for
a round-the-town photo session. The band were ill at ease at the prospect
and its ramifications. At suitably evocative landmarks, like an army
barracks, or devastated rubble, the camera would whirr. How had
Mick felt?
Like Paddy McGintys goat. I just felt like a dick. The best time was when
all the kids were in the photos with us. That was the only time when it was
human and real. I should imagine theyll lap it up in London, though. The
soldiers crouching in their cubby holes thought we were dicks. The kids
thought we were dicks. Like, we asked some, Do you want to be in the
photograph? and they said bollocks on the Ballymurphy estate.
But I think it was important, because we got a lightning tour of what
was actually happening, and so we were really in touch during those
moments. I was more aware of what was going on around me than the
camera. If I had known people in Belfast I would have hung out with them
adrian boot (2)
The soldiers
crouching in
cubbyholes
thought we
were dicks
the clash
but, as in all good stories, ended up being the hero, destroying

the hideaway single-handed. However, when he returned to
his editor with the explosive copy, it was summarily rejected
because it was you might say too real. As a result he quit the
journalistic department and joined the platoon.
The last line read: Its easier blowing up Japanese
magazines (geddit?) than getting one of my articles on the war
accepted, sir. Do you think Joe was making a point to me?
There were two shows in Dublin at yet another bastion of
learning. Trinity College, in an astonishingly ornate hall, Joe
shouted out, Aint this posh? and he was right.
Portraits of past academic luminaries decorated the walls
bewigged gents in languidly pensive poses, a sculpture of
two almost intertwined figures and a gigantic organ in the
gallery, which looked as if it came out of Hollywood in its most
fantastic phase. Set all this alongside the kids and the finally
erected backdrop and the ironies were extreme.
Many of the fans who were disappointed in Belfast had
Simonon and Jones by an
come down, and Joe dedicated Hate And War to them.
army Saracen vehicle on
Royal Avenue, Belfasts
Despite there not being time for a proper soundcheck, the
main shopping street,
band, first time around, were astonishing, soaring through
secured at either end
by the ring of steel
Londons Burning, Capital, City Of The Dead (which, as
Mick said, is the opposite of what was happening in Belfast),
Janie Jones and Garageland. After half a dozen or so
numbers, Joe announced, Listen shut up. I cant play with
these guys here, motioning towards the security guards.
and become part of the background. Instead, I thought
Instantly they upped and went, and suddenly the kids poured onto the
the group stuck out like a sore thumb.
stage, creating a scene of delirious confusion. No, they didnt prevent the
Another raw nerve was the backdrop The Clash play
band from playing, but exulted in the fact that this was their night, their
against. It features a photographic blow-up of a violent
victory. Strangely, the audience numbered few fashionably attired
Belfast street scene, replete with armoured cars and
punks. Most were longhairs or the curious brigade who transform
hunched civilians.
themselves from sports jacketed bystanders (one couple were actually
Mick: I didnt think we should put it up here because
smooching to Cheat) to frenetic dervishes.
they arent going to particularly want to be reminded of it
If the first set was good, the second one was superlative. On Remote
and they are going to say what the fuck do they know about
Control, Micks voice (hes now taking charge of more vocal parts than
it. Obviously were sympathetic and have an empathy for
ever) rang out in spine-chilling, splintered shards.
the place, but I also feel we might be rubbing their faces
Nicky looked deceptively loose-limbed as he thrashed out a titanic
in it. In Bournemouth its great because everyone is
drum underlay, while Paul, with India-rubber intensity, attacked the bass
fucking asleep and its really heavy because everyone is
with a venom that would have split the atom. Joe was also superb as he
confronted by this stuff, but in Belfast they dont need to
circled the stage in those juddering, quickfire movements. Equally
be reminded. You just have to walk down the street and be
intense was the version of Junior Marvins Police And Thieves, whose
reminded of it every day.
significance grew uncannily after the previous days events. Words like
How many times have we been searched? Must be
intense, powerful, unavoidable, magnetic just spun through my head.
about 20 times. I really felt this concert was going to be
a rocknroll show and the audience was going to be one
I love The Clash because they are one of the most honest and exciting
rocknroll bands we have.
of the best wed ever encountered. But, of course, the bureaucrats and
So, on leaving the hotel on Saturday morning to catch my various
arseholes put their foot in it. But listen you can be a Catholic or a
Protestant kid you can come along and all be bouncing together.
planes and trains back to London, a small incident irked considerably.
Now the authorities gotta see something wrong in that. Its a cruel
Getting into the lift were two chambermaids who worriedly confided
irony. The live backdrop being associated with our group and then the
in me, Watch out. There are punk rockers on this floor. Mind you dont
authorities stamping on our concert.
get beaten up.
I replied that they didnt want to beat
t least the following night in
anyone up.
Dublin the promised rocknroll took
They do, the girls rushed back at me. Are
place. On the train down, Joe handed
you one?
me a Combat Picture Library cartoon strip
Do I look like one?
booklet, called Jack Wouldnt Dare.
You cant tell by the looks. Theyre a terrible
lot. They put safety pins through their cheeks
Thats for you and Melody Maker, he
and even babies cheeks.
quipped. It told the engrossing saga of one
Who is at fault for such an attitude? Girls, this
reporter Jack Roberts (who looked not unlike
band is more on your side than your manager
Elvis Costello and had PRESS emblazoned on
is. He was toying with the idea of throwing
his helmet). The time was the Second World
them out of the hotel because of their so-called
War, and Jack The Hack was sent out with an
bad language. See this band. They are very,
army platoon on a search-and-destroy mission
very special. Ian Birch
to a Japanese arms dump. Jack was SCARED
How many
times have we
been searched?
Must be about
20 times
1977
Johnny Rotten:
marked by his
Catholic schooling?
rules, as Tony Parsons

used to say before he
got wise. Good dance
tune, anyway, while
Problems says it all:
Bet you thought you
knew what I was about/
Bet you thought
ALBUMS
youd solved all your
problems/But YOU
are the problem.
Whatcha gonna
do? Vegetate? Listen
1977
to the Sex Pistols
album? Great songs
gone, ineffectual flicks
of the wrist like New York,
All very Weller, but is this
which probably has David
a Jagger I see before me? No,
Johansen quaking in his heels,
its the singles, all four of them
and EMI you guessed it,
Anarchy In The UK, God Save
theyre bitching.
The Queen, Pretty Vacant and
Youre only 29/You gotta lot to
Holidays In The Sun
learn. In spite of this inspired
constituting one third (weigh it)
opening, Seventeen rambles
of the vinyl. Of course, there are
a little and the guitars do go on a
other great songs.
bit. I just speed/Thats all I need.
This in no first-round knockout.
Whaddya think so far?
This is no Clash attending the
Well, Ive saved the best bit for
CBS Convention; no Jam voting
you to linger over. Youve already
Conservative; no Damned
heard two songs the band
fucking an American girl with a
co-wrote with Sid Vicious (as
Fender bass; no Stranglers
opposed to Glen Matlock, The
distorting Trotsky and Lenin for
True Pop Kid): EMI and
their own cunt-hating, bully-boy
Holidays In The Sun. Heres the
ends. No, this is the Sex Pistols.
third. Its called Bodies.
The band which (so Im told I
She was a girl from
wasnt there in the beginning)
Birmingham/She had just had an
started it all.
abortion/She was a case of
Great songs like Submission,
insanity/Her name was Pauline,
a numb-nostrilled Venus In
she lived in a tree/She was a no
Furs/Penetration/I Wanna
one who killed her baby/She sent
Be Your Dog, in form hypnotic, in
her letters from the country/She
content writhing. Pain through a
was an animal/She was a bloody
dull, passive haze. Is that a whip in
disgrace/Bodies/Im not an
your hand or are you abnormal?
animal/Dragged on a table in
Submission/Going down,
a factory/Illegitimate place to
down, dragging her down/
be/In a packet in a lavatory/Die
Submission/I cant tell you what
little baby screaming/Bodies/
Ive found. Smack?
Screaming fucking bloody mess/
Geeks? What a mystery and
Not an animal/Its an abortion/
who grew up on the New York
Mummy/Im not an abortion/
Dolls? Dogs yelp as the drill
Throbbing squirm/Gurgling
continues. Most unhealthy and
bloody mess
ya like it like that? Well, it grows
What? Good God. Was I
on you. A bit like cancer.
shocked! Did I jump! Is that what
Great songs like No Feelings:
they wanted, to shock people?
I got no emotion for anybody
Smart boys. Do they mean it? Is it
else/You better understand Im
satire of the most dubious kind?
in love with myself/My self, my
Did Johns Catholic schooling
beautiful self. Ah, solipsism
REVIE
W
ALBUMS
Sex Pistols
Never Mind The Bollocks, Heres
The Sex Pistols virgin
What are you waiting for? True
love, school to end, third world/
civil war, more wars in the third
world, a leader, the commandos
to storm the next aeroplane, next
weeks NME, The Revolution?
The Sex Pistols album!
Hail, hail, rocknroll, deliver
them from evil but lead them not
into temptation. Keep them
quiet/off the street/content.
Hey punk! You wanna elpeesized Anarchy single? You
wanna original Anarchy black
bag? You wanna bootleg album?
You wanna collect butterflies?
Very fulfilling, collecting
things very satisfying. Keep you
satisfied, make you satiated,
make you fat and old, queueing
for the rocknroll show.
The Sex Pistols. They could
have dreamed up the name and
died. The hysterical equation
society makes of love/a gun =
power/crime shoved down its
own throat, rubbed in its own
face. See, Im just as repressed
and contaminated as the next
guy. And I like the Sex Pistols.
Aesthetically, apart from
anything else. Three of them are
very good-looking. And the
sound of the band goes
I dont wanna holiday in the
sun/I wanna go in the city/
Theres a thousand things
I wanna say to you
leave its mark? I dont know

where Bodies is coming
from and it scares me. Its
obviously a gutter view of
sex/dirt/blood/
reproduction and if the
song is an attack on such
a mentality its admirable.
But, as with Holidays In
The Sun, Rotten never
allows himself to make a
moral judgement and,
going by things hes said, he
seems refreshingly capable
of making them. I wish he
would. I wish he would say that
East Germany is presently
organising itself better than
West Germany or vice versa, if
thats what he believes. I wish the
Sex Pistols had said in Bodies
that women should not be
forced to undergo such savagery,
especially within a welfare state.
Im sick of unlimited tolerance
and objectivity, because it leads
to annihilation. I wish everyone
would quit sitting on the fence in
the middle of the road. I think
Bodies will be open to much
misinterpretation and that to
issue it was grossly irresponsible.
Many of these songs (under new
names) also crop up on their
bootleg album plus Satellite, in
which the Pistols give the finger
to the provinces, and Just Me,
which has a non-existent tune and
frightening words: You wanna be
me/Didnt I fool you? The singing
is done with much less expertise.
Rotten sounding sick to death. Its
a much better record.
I dont really know anything
about music, but the Sex Pistols
seem to play as well as anyone
Ive heard, and Ive heard Jimi
Hendrix and Pete Townshend
records. I never knew what was
meant by guitar hero it sounds
like the kind of phrase a mental
retard might mouth. Guitar
hero you mean as in war hero,
that kind of thing?
Why should anyone wish to play
more usefully than Steve Jones,
or drum more elaborately than
Paul Cook, or play better bass
than Sid Vicious? What purpose
could it serve to outdo them?
So what are the Sex Pistols?
For the tabloids a welcome rest
from nubiles (sex and violence in
their name alone and drugs too,
if you count Rottens speed
dalliance); for the dilettantes, a
new diversion (Ritz has a monthly
punk column); for the promoters,
a new product to push; for the
parents, a new excuse; for the
kids, a new way (in the tradition of
the Boy Scouts, the terraces and
one-upmanship) in which to
dissipate their precious energy.
Sad Caf Fanx Ta-Ra rCa
When The Clash cut Im So

Bored With The USA they
couldnt have heard this album,
yet its eminently applicable. And
it could only have happened in
the States; its hard to think of a
British couple who would have
the arrogance to come up with
this collection of mediocrity.
The bad news starts with the
grossly sexist title Gregg and
Cher Allman have chosen for
their duo status, Allman And
Woman, which reduces one of
the most outstanding female
singers of the last decade or so to
the role of a mere chattel of an
average Southern rocker.
Perhaps, however, Cher
consented to be relegated to
worse than second best in an
attempt to keep her own name off
the album, in which case shes
taken a wise step. Her subservient
role continues through into the
music, where shes forced to sing
far too low to get down to the
level of hubby. Even when shes
singing on her own, on Island,
she barely sparks, but her
unrestrained sexuality comes
through. By contrast, Greggs
solo spot, Shadow Dream Song,
is grotesque, as he groans out the
ballad, bum notes and all.
As a duo they seem to have
started out with the intention of
becoming a white Marvin Gaye
and Tammi Terrell and get off to
a good start with Move Me, a
lively 60s-style song on which
they give a fair impersonation of
the Motown pair. They keep up
the momentum through I Found
You, Love, bright and breezy and
not unlike It Takes Two, then
start to go downhill with Can
You Fool. They meet their
Waterloo on the fourth track, an
unspeakable version of Smokey
Robinsons Youve Really Got A
Hold On Me which they manage
to turn into a dirge. Theres no
way that anyone can match the
Miracles definitive original, of
course, but theres plenty of
scope for a good reading of this
song, as Eddie Money has proved
on his debut album.
From here, Greggs singing gets
worse, Cher loses enthusiasm and
the songs mostly become maudlin
ballads. If it didnt represent such
a waste of talent, this album would
be a joke. Perhaps they should
have called it Funny And Cher.
A remarkable debut album that

augers well not only for the group
but for all music makers working
within the framework of British
rock. Sad Caf are one of the
best bands to emerge in some
time, and side two, in particular,
of this engrossing programme
represents a sustained peak of
achievement rare on albums. It is
literally a performance, with each
piece, song or instrumental,
slotting into the next one, with
barely a pause for breath.
Although all the compositions
are richly varied they seem to
follow a logical path, as the
moods and tempos switch
around. Side one tends to be
more patchy. The opener,
Babylon, is certainly a good
introduction to their music, for it
features their key ingredients.
These are distinctive lead vocals
from Paul Young, plenty of backup vocal harmonies, violent lead
guitar from the passionate
Ashley Mulford, an orchestral
approach to arrangements, and
the sophisticated keyboard work
of the man largely responsible for
those arrangements, Vic Emerson.
Black Rose, their single,
concludes the first side and is
rather too obviously influenced
by Hall & Oates, but the band are
still finding their feet, so
doubtless more of their own
personality will emerge, as
indeed it does on the second
segment. Opening with an
instrumental by Emerson entitled
The Further Adventures Of Mad
Alan, it is nice to hear him
consciously get away from rock
cliches and employ strange
chordal devices to create a mood
of menace and mystery. The
guitar cuts across the organ
chords like a psychotic killer
advancing on his victim. The
piece finally resolves into Fanx
Ta-Ra, which is a song about the
aftermath of love, hence the
cover picture.
The bands music makes its
impact immediately, and the best
way to enjoy this
album is to start
at the beginning
and let it build
rather than
extract odd
tracks. I have
a feeling that
this time next
year we may be
toasting them
as our Brightest
Hope. They are
certainly one of
mine. Chris Welch,
Michael Oldfield, MM Nov 26
MM Oct 8
NME Nov 5
Allman And Woman

Two The Hard Way Warners
SINGLES
W
REVIE
1977
SINGLES
Wire Mannequin Harvest
Magnificent Sweet Jane riff
repetition, ludicrous surfing
back-up vocals, heavy petting
in the middle of a fire fight from
veterans of the Roxy era
overcoming the age barrier
with a shambling punkathised
pop-consciousness and one
for suitable vinyl fodder for a
K-Tel Presents Punky Waver
Explosion. Aimed at the
position which will soon be held
by The Rich Kids. NME Nov 26
June 1977:
Talking Heads
take their
fey funk to
Amsterdam
Talking Heads
Uh-Oh, Love
Comes To Town sire
Fey funk for passive
intellectuals with added
ingredients of hesitant steel
band backing David Byrnes
contrived flitty yelp. Their
unfulfilled promise disappoints
while hardly causing long winter
nights of insomnia. NME Nov 26
Wings Mull Of Kintyre Capitol

Nice cover pic of the Isle Of
Davaar on the west coast of
Scotland. This is a tribute-insong to the area in Argyllshire
where Friendly Macca has his
twee little hideaway. The
Campbeltown pipe band, with
whom Wings posed for the
cover of The Campbeltown
Courier, all sound good,
especially Johnny Sinclair, but
the song sucks on ice. NME Nov 19
Bill Withers
Lovely Day CBs
Just one look at you, he knows
its gonna be a lovely day. And
the worlds all right with him,
he knows its gonna be a lovely
day. Gentle soul-jog with
dah-dah-dee Beach Boys
harmonies over soothing
strings-and-ribbon section,
content platonic eternity
fraternity pin wallpaper music
suitable for the re-runs of
Lassky And Crutch. NME Nov 26
Bob Marley & The Wailers

Jamming/Punky Reggae
Party island
Punky Reggae Party was
celebrated before it was even
released because of all
those references to The
Clash, The Jam, The Slits,
The Damned, Dr Feelgood,
etc, etc but its more of
a vague goodwill gesture
to the punks than anything
else. Its best to regard this
Lee Perry/Bob Marley
collaboration effort as just
a welcome, worthwhile
B-side to the excellent
Jamming (from the
Exodus album, natch)
than any kind of cosmic
statement. NME Nov 19
Gijsbert Hanekroot / Getty
Johnny Rotten, Oliver Twist of

this generation. I wanna some
MORE, Malcolm! Julie Burchill,
1977
Whos the
greatest?
getty
Benign anarchy
reigns on the STIFF
RECORDS tour with
ELVIS COSTELLO, IAN
DURY and NICK LOWE
and team spirit
prevails. Ian Dury
shows those whining
little brats what
its all about,
says Costello.
October 28, 1977, Lyceum

Ballroom, London: artists
and crew on stage for the
nightly finale of the Live
Stiffs Tour, Sex & Drugs &
Rock & Roll & Chaos: (lr)
Dave Edmunds, Wreckless
Eric, Ian Dury, Elvis Costello,
BP Fallon and Nick Lowe
1977
NME NOVEMBER 5
EX AND Drugs and rock and roll sex and drugs
and rock and roll sex and drugs and rock and
roll Hot damn, mman, Leicester University is
jumpin tonight. The hall is ass-to-ass jam-packed
with sweaty people going boingggg-boinggggboingggg to the deranged rhythm of Ian Durys 77
anthem to the joys of the Good Things In Life, all of them chanting
manaically along to Himselfs almost mantric invocation. SEX!!! and
DRUGS!!! and ROCK!!! and ROLL!!! SEX!!! and DRUGS!!! and ROCK!!!
and ROLL!!! SEX!!! and DRUGS!!! and
Meanwhile, the stage is also full of sweaty people jumping up and down
and yelling Sex And Drugs And Rock And Roll! The only difference is that
most of them are playing instruments. There are three drummers, three
keyboard players, two bassists and only God and Jake Riviera know how
many singers and guitarists. Both Jake Riviera and God are in Leicester,
but only Jake is buying drinks.
Its Stiffs Greatest Stiffs dumping music on the people tonight, ladeez
n gemmun, the hardest workin coach party in showbiz. A demented
army of drunken hippies with short hair surfing
on the new wave: five featured performers and
an all-star cast of fahsands, mate: sex, drugs,
rocknroll, violence, intrigue, comedy,
romance, suspense, thrills, chills, spills, bills.
Its an instant smash, a silk-sash bash, a crystal
shipload of mutants and crazies cunningly
disguised as a coachload of hungover, blitzedout musicians.
Coast-to-coast weirdness. Cmon along and
join the crew.
RIDAY MORNING, shORtlY before

10 in the am. God is shedding his
gentle grace in the form of
a torrential downpour suitable
only for Noah The Ark and
Howard The Duck over
a somewhat ungrateful
Bayswater. Your reporter, having
packed his Ramones T-shirt and
copy of The Best Science Fiction
Of JG Ballard (if you dont
have it now you can git it)
decabs and wanders into
the offices of Stiff Records
to link up with his
travelling companions.
The first person he sees
is Dave Edmunds, who is
lending his maestros
touch on guitar and drums
to The Nick Lowe All-Stars.
He looks disgusted (though
he tries to be amused) at the
horrific idea of being awake
and functioning (all terms
used in their loosest
possible sense) at such an
odd and ungodly hour.
He is wearing a pink-andblack velvet jacket that looks
as if Cliff Richard used to wear
it on Oh Boy! back in 58.
Dave, your girlfriends
Photo session for the
on four, announces Stiffs
Live Stiffs Live album:
unnaturally cheerful and
(lr) Elvis Costello, Nick
Lowe, Ian Dury, Larry
efficient office-person.
Wallis, Wreckless Eric
Edmunds picks up the
phone and begins to
issue instructions for
the videotaping of Lowes
appearance on So It Goes the
chris gabrin / getty
following night. Be careful not to erase Elvis, though, he admonishes

as bang on cue enter (fanfare, please) Elvis Costello.
A potato face carved out of granite and surmounted by the nowlegendary pair of massive hornrims, clasping a carton of orange juice
in a grip of iron, Costello looks like Clark Kent the day after he decides to
stop coming on like a wimp just to protect his secret identity. Its a bird,
its a plane, its Elvis!
Theres just time to scan the memo pinned to the wall that announces
that Stiff is not responsible for anything charged to any of the hotel rooms
apart from breakfast and say hello to Larry Wallis, who looks as earlymorning groggy as anyone but at least has a pair of impenetrable shades
and 18 inches of hair to hide behind. Then its time to get on the bus and
aim for Manchester.
The bus drivers name is Trevor wonder of wonders! and inevitably
hes dubbed Clevor Trever in honour of the Ian Dury song of the same
name. Fortified by the fruits of a raid on the off-licence conveniently
located a couple of doors down the road from Stiff or is it the other way
round? and cassette tapes prepared by Wallis and Costello, everyone
prepares to meet the day.
The first block of seats on the coach are the undisputed staked-out
territory of The 24-Hour Club a selfexplanatory designation. This crew of hardcore
crazies is made up of Larry Wallis (formerly of
Motorhead, the Pink Fairies and UFO), Pete
Thomas (one-time Chilli Willi & The Red Hot
Peppers drummer and now-time drummer
with Elvis Costello & The Attractions not to
mention drumming and rhythm guitar duties
with Nick Lowe), Terry Williams (archexponent of Swansea cool, currently stoking the
engine room of Dave Edmunds Rockpile but on
this tour pounding it out for Nick Lowe) plus
Lowe and Edmunds themselves.
The final lynchpin of the 24-Hour Club
(AKA The Pound-A-Minute Club) is Elvis bass
player, who used to be Bruce Thomas of The
Sutherland Brothers & Quiver. Then theres
a lady named Penny Tobin, who plays
keyboards for Nick Lowe, and in the
successive tiers we find Ian Dury & The
Blockheads thats the ineffable Dury
himself plus Chas Jankel (guitar,
keyboards), Norman Watt-Roy (bass),
John Turnbull (guitar), Davey Payne
(saxes), Charlie Charles (drums) and
Mickey Gallagher (keyboards).
Heres a scoop for you,
Jake Riviera is to announce
gleefully the following
evening. Mickey used to
play for Peter Frampton
and he co-wrote Show Me
The Way, which sold
millions, right? So whats
he doing grovelling for
peanuts on a Stiff tour?
Well, it aint exactly peanuts,
Jake. Everybody gets 50 quid a
week cash money, but at least one
Stiff owed so much money to his
cohorts dont ask me what he
spent it on, but its probably what
youdve spent your bread on if youd
been him that he ended up with
a measly four quid in his pocket
on payday after hed paid back his
debts. God, its tough on the road.
Behind his copy of Jack The
Ripper: The Final Solution, tightbuttoned, high-pocketed
Basher Lowe appears taciturn
and truculent, occasionally
taking a meditative swig on his
Its a silk-sash
bash, a crystal
shipload of
mutants and
crazies
October 7, 1977: (lr)

Dave Edmunds, Nick
Lowe and former Pink
Fairies and Motrhead
member Larry Wallis
on stage at Bath
University, Somerset
Seeing my bemused stare, he adds reassuringly, Its not all for me. Some
of its for Day. We used to get so hungry when we were recording The Long
And Winding Road. He pauses. His spectacles flash evilly. Theres a
very interesting story behind all of that
He raises his eyebrows invitingly. I say, Yeah?
which shall remain secret. He wends his way to the tune-up room.
Ive got just enough time to murmur, Thats what you think, buster, at his
recently vacated airspace when its time to rush out front for curtain-up
on The Nick Lowe All-Stars.
hAteveR YOu DO, dont ever let anybody tell you that
Nick Lowe doesnt know how to put a band together. At the
back of the stage theres Terry Williams and Dave Edmunds
hammering it out on twin drum kits, and strung out behind Our Hero
are Penny Tobin (keyboards), Pete Thomas (rhythm guitar) and Larry
Wallis (lead), all laying it down deep and crisp while Basher guns the
motor of a mouth-watering vintage Gibson six-string-and-bass
doublenecker into So It Goes. The tautness of Lowes sound seems
vaguely incongruous against his studiedly casual manner. Still, he can
play dynamite bass even in a semi-slouch, and sing real good like a pop
star should despite the wad of gum he keeps molaring.
Basher keeps socking it to the people notably with Lets Eat until its
time for Larry Wallis to strut his stuff. Unlike Lowe, Dury, Costello and
Edmunds who are known and respected by Anglophiliac Yanks even if
not by the mass USA public Wallis doesnt exactly have the credentials
that would make a Rolling Stone critic roll over to have his tummy tickled:
I mean, the Pink Fairies, UFO and the unlamented Mark I of Motrhead?
Wallis mission in life seems to be to prove to the current crop of young
uns that hes still mean and nasty even though hes got a foot and a half of
hair. Judging by the way he performs On Parole and Im A Police Car
david corio / getty
bottle of cider. Edmunds appears

likewise behind Elvis: What
Happened? and then turns the
book over to Terry Williams and
gets into a heavy-duty poker
game which lasts until the coach
reaches the first motorway
services. Williams gets stuck into
the book and then nods out.
Towards the back of the coach,
Costello ploughs eagerly through
The Essential Lenny Bruce.
Theres a film crew in tow, and
in order to get the full cinma
vrit number and capture the
uh gestalt of the tour in all its
awful glory they film the Stiffs leaving the coach to run
through the rain into the grease-pit, and even scan them
queueing up for the horrorshow neogrub. Worst of all,
they film everyone eating.
Larry Wallis groans elaborately. Listen, he instructs
me and Stiffs resident genie, an ebullient yobbo known
as Kosmo Vinyl, lets eat as boringly as we possibly can.
We chomp as mechanistically as is (in)humanly
possible until Pennebakers heirs pack up to try and get
some visual out of Ian and Elvis. Wallis cracks up. I dont
think Ive ever seen anyone eat as boringly as you just
did, he tells Kosmo.
The major event of that particular stop was the
discovery of numerous pots of green Slime on sale in the
media shop. I dont know if youve seen the stuff, but its
pure Blecccch City: a nasty green goo that looks quite
unspeakably vile, like a cross between King Kongs
bogies and Linda Blairs puke in The Exorcist. I dont
know why they sell it in motorway shops, because its not
exactly the ideal stuff for bored toddlers to smear around
in a car on a long drive, but its great for nasty-minded
rock musicians in a coach. Kos and Elvis keyboard
player Steve Nieve get really obsessed with the stuff, and
its thrown and smeared all over the place by the time we
get to the hotel.
Most of the tour personnel kill the hour between checkin and going to the gig by getting pissed or unpacking
(me, I take three aspirin, have a cup of coffee and read a bit of JG Ballard),
but Elvis has different ideas. As soon as were back on the coach, Costello
is grinning like a chimp whos just poured all the PG Tips down the
directors trousers.
Whos on the case then? he gloats. Whos the greatest scorer of
records that ever lived? Ive just been down to Woolworths and I got two
copies of Anarchy In The UK on EMI for 32p each!!!
Kosmo and Wallis are awestruck, as well they might be. To go straight
off the coach and slog for 15 minutes down to Woolworths just on the off
chance that there might be something good in the deletions rack and
then come up with a find worth anywhere from five to 15 quid in the
London vinyl Shylock emporia Listen, anyone out there still sceptical
about the sheer, blinding, transcendent genius of Elvis Costello?
Outside the Manchester Apollo, the sign says Live on stage at 7.30
ELVIS COSTELLO. Clearly, they havent gotten the message about the
five-way democracy on this tour. Or rather four-way: the fifth Greatest
Stiff, Wreckless Eric, is back home under doctors orders. It is explained
that, lacking the staying power of the veterans the collective number of
gigs under these guys belts is astronomical he threw himself into the
touring lifestyle with such enthusiasm that he contracted chronic
laryngitis. This means that a firm set order has to be adhered to.
See, Pete Thomas is playing with both Elvis and Basher and Ian Dury
plays with Wreckless as well as doing his own set. Therefore, neither of
these two gents can do two consecutive sets, which means that the order
can be either Wreckless-Lowe-Dury-Costello or Lowe-WrecklessCostello-Dury (Costello and Dury being the only ones with enough
rehearsed material to do the last set). Without Wreckless, the order is
therefore Lowe-Dury-Costello. Got it?
At the backstage buffet, Elvis is loading up his plate with a fairly
stunning assortment of cheese, cold meats, salady items and whatnot.
1977
(his new Stiff single, natch) Id say he succeeds

admirably. His slicing guitar and angry, sneering
vocals are about as wimpy and mellow as a ton
of gelignite.
His moment of glory over, Wallis takes his bow as
Lowe announces in a nicely offhand way, One of
our drummers, Dave Edmunds, is gonna come up
and play some guitar. Pete Thomas stashes his
borrowed red Strat and slides in behind the kit as a
jubilant, juiced-up Edmunds straps on his Gibson ES
335 and bellows into the mic, Nick Lowe wrote
it, I recorded it and I hope you bought it! Its
called I Knew The Bride!
The band storm into the song with a crackling
energy that provides the most dynamic piece of
ear massage thus far: Thomas and Williams
hammering their kits through the floor with a
flood of power that keeps right up until the band
makes its exit on Lowes superb Heart Of The
City. The keener-eared voyeurs backstage note
that Lowe is actually singing Aardvark Of The
City on the songs ride-out.
Backstage, all is Welsh jubilation as Phil Ryan
and Martin Ace (formerly of the Man band) and
George Ace (all three now with The Flying Aces)
show up to hang out with Terry and Dai
Edmunds to help celebrate Phils birthday, but its too late to stop now
because Ian Dury & The Blockheads are due up on stage
In one sense, Dury is the tours major revelation. Its his return to the
public stage following the collapse of The Kilburns some 18 months ago
and it all comes right on top of an album that was as exhilarating as the
Kilburns album was universally judged to be disappointing. (Its called
New Boots And Panties!!, just in case you dont know.) The Dury album
alone would be a justification if one were needed for the existence of
Stiff, because I cant think of a single straight record company in England
who would have had the vision to commission and release it.
The sound has improved between Lowes set and Durys, which means
that its gone from appalling to mediocre. The audience have warmed up
as well, as is demonstrated by the fact that a couple of them actually brave
the security golems roaming the hall and attempt to get up and dance.
Mind you, theyre stiff-armed right back into their seats within seconds,
but its the thought that counts, and by the time Dury winds up his set with
the anthematic Sex And Drugs And Rock And Roll, every bodys up at
once. The golems snarl and frown as threateningly as they can, but there
are just too damn many people standing up and dancing at once for them
to have any effect at all. Theres a moral in that, kidz. Bear it in mind next
time you wanna dance at a concert.
Durys set consisted of the material
from his new album, played about
Nick Lowe (left) and Dave
one trillion times harder than it was
Edmunds backstage,
before the former fired
in the studio. The whole set was
the latter from the Live
sublime, but especial standouts
Stiffs Tour following a
were the moving My Old Man, the
drunken early-hours row
hilariously accurate character
sketches Clevor Trever and
Billericay Dickie, the rocking, spatout Sweet Gene Vincent with a
zonked but still dangerous Edmunds
laying on some extra guitar muscle,
Plaistow Patricia with its jawdropping intro If I carry on much
longer, Ill have listed the whole
damn set under highlights, but
thats the kind of set it was.
Durys stage presence is as
remarkable as everything else about
him. In his battered bowler hat and
stained jacket, he seems to have
lurched leering straight out of
Dickens, a manic and macabre
costermonger, a Greek Chorus for
the rejects and losers. If I had to
name Durys most outstanding
quality, it would have to be compassion; if only because

of the way he refrains from training upon his
characters the scorn that many would say they
deserve. His music is also witty, savage, perceptive,
highly original, very musical and you can dance to it.
What more can I say? Enjoy.
Finally, theres the king and his elite guard. Elvis
Costello & The Attractions look like the kind of kids at
my school who hated rocknroll, got to be prefects
before anybody else, served as school librarians and
were astonishingly officious if you returned a
book late or did anything freaky in the library.
(This may tell you something about the school
I went to. Bang goes the last shred of my street
credibility. Oh well.) Keep those kids in their
school uniforms till their mid-20s, drag em
through a hedge backwards and youve got Elvis
Costello & The Attractions.
Except that, woweee, they got it tight and
theyre rockin here tonight. Theyre the hottest
little teen combo that ever got the kids sobbing
while they frugged at the end-of-term dance,
and for writing teenage pop songs about adult
situations and playing monster guitar and
singing like a bitch while hes doing it Elvis
Costello cant be beat.
As the live tracks on the back of Watching The Detectives
demonstrate, the live Elvis experience is about as laid back as Godzilla on
speed. Put this boy into the Hip MOR bracket at your own peril, son!
The set consists of Elvis classics old and new, and as a special tribute to
the missing Wreckless Eric, he does (Id Go) The Whole Wide World
minus, unfortunately, the life-size cardboard cut-out of Wreckless that
he originally intended to bring on. Bruce Thomas slides behind Terry
Williams drum kit, and the band are augmented by Blockheads saxist
and ex-Kilburn Davey Payne, plus Denise Roudette on bass.
Denise is (a) a fine bass player who works with Wreckless band, (b) an
all-round fine human being, (c) Ian Durys girlfriend and (d) one of the
most beautiful women Ive met all year.
For the first encore, Dave Edmunds by now semi-legless but not giving
an inch comes on to add his guitar sorcery to Mystery Dance, and for
the second the entire cast assembles for you guessed SEX!!! and
DRUGS!!! and ROCK!!! and ROLL!!!
paul welsh / getty
Durys stage
presence is as
remarkable as
everything
else about him
ACK AT The hotel, theres an impromptu party going on, as The

Kursaal Flyers and The Cortinas are in town. A California peach
named Farrah Farrah Fawcett-Minor, is how she introduces
herself who does the tour newsletter is dressed up in a nurses
N ROUTe TO Leicester, the party stops in the charming little

tourist-trap village of Bakewell where, as various members of
the party are not slow to point out, the tarts come from. Ian
Dury buys up one chemists shops entire stock of Interdens
medicated toothpicks, lamebrain! and ceremoniously distributes
them to the assembled company.
After various eating places have been dismissed as too expensive,
I-man ends up having lunch with Costello, Davey Payne, Farrah and
photographer Fran at a tiny little caff where the strain of providing five
simultaneous orders proves almost too much for the facilities.
After the purchase of throat pastilles, apples, and ice-cream, me and
Costello settle down to rap our way to Leicester. Various people are
opining that Edmunds will show up in Leicester. Me, I reckon it seems
unlikely and sure enough there he doesnt, but by Monday hes back
Hello boys and All Is Well.
Elvis Costello reckons that the current albums by Richard Hell, Talking
Heads and Ian Dury are among the finest music of the last decade, and that
the biggest pain in the musical ass these days are punkwagon jumpers.
He loves the Sex Pistols and The Clash, but has nothing but withering
Teenage pop songs

about adult situations:
Elvis Costello on stage at
Bath University during
the Live Stiffs Tour
contempt for the third-div punk bands. Ian Durys

Blackmail Man really shows those whining little brats what its all about.
Theres been talk of Richard Hell becoming an honorary Stiff for the
occasion in Leicester, and as it turns out hes there at the gig, but in a nonplaying capacity. Hes in the wings for the Dury and Costello sets, chugging
on a can of beer and staring in bemusement at the slightly absurd
spectacle of me and Costello singing along to My Old Man. His eyes
widen if thats possible in delight as Dury croaks Arse-holes-bas-tardsfuck-ing cunts-and-PRICKS!!! at the beginning of Plaistow Patricia. In
his honour, Costello opens his set with Hells Love Comes In Spurts.
As soon as wed trooped into the hall, Pete Thomas had turned round
and announced, Now this, my friends, is what I call a gig, and in terms
of sound quality and general vibe, Leicester beats Manchester all hollow,
even despite the absence of Dave Edmunds. The audience is up and
grooving right from the start, which proves that college gigs are OK,
buster, even though they do play an endlessendlessendless eight-track
of Sgt Pepper in the bar.
Which is where we came in, with Ian Durys joyous innocent mantra
SEX!!!! and DRUGS!!!! and ROCK!!!! and ROLL!!!! chanted by a berserk
hallful of kids high on good vibes and rocknroll music and anything that
they happened to have brought along with them.
Listen, everyones a billtopper on this tour, everyones a star, and Id
recommend you go see any of these acts, singly and together, in the
future: Dave Edmunds Rockpile with Nick Lowe, Ian Durys Blockheads,
Elvis Costello & The Attractions and whatever Larry Wallis gets up to
next, not to mention poor ol Wrecked Wreckless Eric. You know it makes
sense, bruvvers n sistuhs, and you best believe its gonna do ya good.
Charles Shaar Murray
david corio / getty
uniform and is asking various people if they

require medical attention. Basher is drinking
Bloody Mary from a pint mug, and Dave
Edmunds is discussing a song lyric with Will
Birch from the Kursaals.
Edmunds is preoccupied with two things: thing
the first being the fact that he is somewhat
unhappy to say, the least with the state of his
relationship with his record/management
company Swan Song, and thing the second the
strength and energy that he derives from working
with guitarist Billy Bremner, drummer Terry
Williams and bassist-vocalist-songwriter-genius
Nick Lowe in his band Rockpile. Hes also upset by
being described as dumpy and matted by Tony
Parsons in NME a couple of weeks back.
I know Ive got a little bit of a pot, but the axe
hides that. As for matted he scratches worriedly
at his dishevelled but undeniably clean and shiny
barnet and then waves his fist with a gesture so
extravagant that he nearly knocks a triple Scotch
all over Terry Williams.
The 24-Hour Club is in full swing when I decide
to crash out around half-three, but the first person
I meet in the lift on Saturday morning is Edmunds,
face white and jaw clenched. Im leaving the tour,
he announces.
Downstairs, the airs so thick its like drowning
in molasses. During the night, thered been an
altercation, a bit of midnight raving that had
gotten out of hand, a prank escalated into a
full-scale accident during one of those
moments when perceptions and perspectives
are eroded by booze. Though Edmunds was
not the main protagonist, he and one other
had been fired off the tour by Nick Lowe as
soon as the latter found out in the morning
(it had all happened in his room, but hed slept
right through it).
The Main Culprit had been reinstated by
Lowe because he apologised, but Edmunds
refused to do likewise, and unrepentantly
hopped a cab to the station to go back to
London, leaving his guitar and amp in the
truck. Lowe and Williams attempt to follow him
to the station but all their loves in vain since the
train has left 10 minutes before they get there.
Saylarvie. Williams drums the first part of Lowes set by himself. I
Knew The Bride is dropped from the set and Elvis Costello weighs in on
second guitar on Heart Of The City. And like the cavalry charging over
the ridge in the last reel, Wallis delivers a solo on the Saturday-night
version of City thats as good as anyone even Dai Edmunds could
have played on that song. Watch this boy life begins at 30, Larry.
1977
A new
musical
language
DAVID BOWIE delivers Heroes made while holed up
in Berlin with BRIAN ENO and the amusing ROBERT
FRIPP. On his return to the UK, he discusses his recent
strategies. Im completely open, he says. Im so
eclectic that complete vulnerability is involved.
es up out of his armchair and onto the balls of his feet as the door
closes behind me.
Christ, how long has it been?
Four years, man, and I set up the tape machine Bowie attempting to
balance the microphone on top of a Carlsberg bottle and no time to
swap small talk because interview time is severely circumscribed, so by
the time weve both sat down and Bowies lit a Gauloise theres nothing to do but pull the
pin and get straight on it.
Where can we start after four years? he asks.
Hell we can start anywhere; we both know where it will go.
Why does Heroes or more accurately Heroes come in quotes? Are the
inverted commas actually part of the title?
Yeah. Firstly it was quite a silly point really I thought Id pick on the only
narrative song to use as the title. It was arbitrary, really, because theres no
concept to the album.
Id felt that the use of quotes indicate a dimension of irony about the word
Heroes or about the whole concept of heroism.
Well, in that example they were, on that title track. the situation that sparked
off the whole thing was I thought highly ironic. theres a wall by the studio
[the album having been recorded at Hansa By the Wall in West Berlin] about
there. Its about 20 or 30 meters away from the studio and the control room looks
out onto it. theres a turret on top of the wall where the guards sit, and during
the course of lunch break every day, a boy and girl would meet out there and
carry on.
they were obviously having an affair. And I thought of all the places to meet
in Berlin, why pick a bench underneath a guard turret on the wall? theyd come
from different directions and always meet there oh, they were both from the
west, but they would always meet right there. And I using licence presumed
that they were feeling somewhat guilty about this affair and so they had
imposed this restriction on themselves, thereby giving themselves an excuse
for their heroic act. I used this as a basis
clive arrowsmith / camera press
NME NOVEMBER 12
The intention was to

go in and play around
with method and
process: David Bowie
on the creation of Low
and Heroes in 1977
1977
Michael Ochs archives / GeTTY
Therefore it is ironic.
Yes it is. Youre perfectly right about that, but there
was no reason why the album should have been
called Heroes. It could have been called The Sons
Of The Silent Age. It was just a collection of stuff that
I and Eno and Fripp had put together. Some of the
stuff that was left off was very amusing, but this was
the best of the batch, the stuff that knocked us out.
Do you find that recording in a studio thats right
by the Berlin Wall gives you a sense of being on the
edge of something?
Thats exactly right. I find that I have to put myself
in those situations to produce any reasonable good
writing. Ive still got that same thing about when I
get to a country or a situation and I have to put
myself on a dangerous level, whether emotionally or
mentally or physically, and it resolves in things like
that: living in Berlin leading what is quite a spartan
life for a person of my means, and in forcing myself
to live according to the restrictions of that city.
So its time to move now that other persons are
writing songs about the Berlin Wall.
Bowie chuckles into his Special Brew. Yes, I have
noticed that, actually. I havent yet made up my
mind, but I have the choice of two places that Im
thinking of going to. Ones Japan and the other is
Israel, and I dont know which ones going to win.
The sight of the Thin White Duke in a kibbutz
strikes one as being too good a visual to pass up, plus
Bowie went through a Japanese phase in 73.
Yes, and I keep wanting to go back there. I think
Ill plump for Kyoto, because I want something very
serene around me for a few months to see if that
produces anything. It is also important to my
private life that I go to Kyoto.
We talk about the Japanese mime/dance/theatre troupe Ondekoza,
whod just completed a run at Sadlers Wells and who Bowie had missed by
a day in Amsterdam. It sounds like a token show for us lot to have a
gander at, Bowie comments after Ive described the show. But in Japan
when I was travelling though it there was an awful lot, particularly in
the outlying villages and provinces, of very strange ritual performances
that I hadnt seen before. And still, because my knowledge of Japanese is
limited to say the least! I never really found out from what school it
came from, or what its origins were.
Since the purpose of all ritual must be invocation, what were the rituals
designed to invoke?
Well, a lot of them were from Shintoism, and they talk very liberally
about being one of the few countries in the world that tolerate all
religions, but youll only find about three Christians in the whole of
Japan. Theyre tolerated he laughs harshly, but everybody else is
a Shintoist, mate! So most of their art forms derive from either that or the
imperial sources. Its very sophisticated but a bit suspicious sometimes.
Yeah, but sos Bowie himself. I think of the koto Bowie plays on Moss
Garden from side two of Heroes and his berserk scream of Im under
Japanese influence and my honours at stake from Blackout on the same
album, and reflect that the kibbutzim probably wont see DB for a while yet.
So what about China? After all, back in 71, Bowie was something of
a Maoist.
Ahhh, thats still there. That place continues to intoxicate me. I got a
glimpse of it when I was in Hong Kong its strange. Theres no wall there,
you see. When you move out of Hong Kong into China, you can just walk
over, and often you wont get shot at. Its quite feasible to sort of wander
into China and just look around, wander around all those villages right
near the border.
Hey, living dangerously is one thing, but recording an album in a
situation where one of your musicians was actually liable to get shot
(A sharp chuckle) I never travel with musicians. I only travel on my own
these days.
A far cry from the times he wouldnt budge an inch without bodyguard,
secretary, personal assistant, travelling companion, hairdresser, PR
All my travelling is done on the basis of wanting to get my ideas for
writing from real events rather than from going back to a system from
whence it came. I am very wary of listening to much music.
Guitarist Robert Fripp

joins co-producer
Brian Eno and David
Bowie in Hansa By The
Wall, Berlin, to record
the Heroes album in
the summer of 1977
He gestures at the massive stereo set enthroned on the table by the sofa.
RCA sent all this stuff over and I forgot to ask them for some records,
but by the time they deliver any Ill be gone. It doesnt really follow me
around much. Imagine trying to plug in one of those in Bangkok! My
drummer insists in carrying one around with massive headphones and
wires sticking out everywhere. I dont travel like that. I only have a tape
machine to use as a notebook.
No, Event, Character, Situation: theyre my preference for the basis of
writing. But at the moment, Im not even really interested in that. I mean,
the last two things have made for a complete re-evaluation of my writing
style. It had a lot to do with being bored with the traditional things Id
been writing, and with wanting to put myself in the position of having to
come up with a new musical language for myself.
I mention that Low missed me completely.
Well Im not surprised, he says, a lot of it missed me as well. I dont
understand it. I dont understand Heroes either. Its something thats
derived through process and method, with absolutely no idea of the
consequences and no preconceptions of any kind.
Low had seemed to me an album presenting in an attractive light
withdrawal from the world almost to the point of catatonic schizophrenia.
Bowie grimaces and clears his throat a trifle ostentatiously. There
is more than an element of truth in whet you say. For me it was very
I wanted to do that, he interrupts defiantly. What youve read from the
experience of that album is absolutely accurate. I did achieve something,
because theres very few albums that I havent experienced at first hand.
You can even tell what city Ive been in by listening to the albums.
Im completely open. Im so eclectic that complete vulnerability is
involved. Youve got no shields, then. Ive never developed them, and
Im not to sure that I want to any more, because Im becoming far more
satisfied with life my private life. Im becoming incredibly straight,
level, assertive, moderate very different from, say, two years ago.
Two years ago you were an uptight game player with a sore nose.
Out there on the wall! No, listen, Id been exposed (he gives the last
syllable of the word a savage, ironic twist) to a general LA-ism which, quite
frankly, I cant cope with. Its the most vile piss-pot in the world.
LA, I say, is like being trapped in the set of a movie you didnt want to see
in the first place.
Absolutely! Its worse than that. It transcends that. Its a movie that is
so corrupt, with a script that is so devious and insidious. Its the scariest
DAVID BOWIE
movie ever written. You feel a total victim there, and you know someones
got the strings on you.
So, why do people build themselves mansions out there? It must be like
voluntary self-imprisonment.
Oh, it is. Its like going to live in Switzerland to look after your tax
money, which is the most incredible thing I ever did. I dont live there but
I stayed there. I dont live anywhere. I have never got around to getting
myself a piece of land, putting up a house on it and saying, This is mine,
this is home. If I did that, that would just about ruin everything. I dont
think Id ever write anything again. I must have complete freedom from
bases. If I ever had anything that resembled a base like a flat on a long
lease or anything I felt so incredibly trapped.
Even if I go away I know that its waiting for me more than that, its like it
has me on a string, and its dragging me back. I dont foresee that I could live
comfortably in any of the cities I go to. Unlike my
managerial predecessor, Im not investmentminded. I still like the idea of making records
next to the wall. I think that is what one should
do, in my case anyway.
Returning to the subject of the recent waxings,
it seems that Heroes is an attempt to fight back
against the state of mind that Low wallows in.
Do you know something? The hardest thing
for me to do is to help you in solving those
problems, because all I know is the input of the
album. I have as much idea of the Outback? he
laughs, about what comes back off that album
as what you do. Eno is the same. Neither of us understand on a linear
level what the things about, but we get a damned good impression of
information coming off those two albums that seems very strong, and
that was not very intentional. The intention was to go in and play around
with method and process, but when wed finished Low and Heroes what
we had in our hands was something that actually does give information.
If it seems obvious to you, then youve described my state of mind at the
time of making those two albums very accurately. Thats exactly on
both albums what Ive gone through. Low was a reaction to having gone
through that peculiar that dull greeny-grey limelight of America and its
repercussions; pulling myself out of it and getting to Europe and saying,
For Gods sake re-evaluate why you wanted to get into this in the first
place? Did you really do it just to clown around in LA? Retire. What you
need is to look at yourself a bit more accurately. Find some people you
dont understand and a place you dont want to be and just put yourself
into it. Force yourself to buy your own groceries.
And thats exactly what I do. I have an apartment on top of an auto shop
in an area of the town which is quite heavily populated by Turks, and I did
that for a bit
Two relevant quotes: the novelist Elizabeth Bowen once wrote:
Anywhere, at any time, with anyone, one may be seized by the suspicion
of being alien ease is therefore to be found in a place which nominally is
foreign: this shifts the weight, which is as good a thumbnail sketch of the
obsessive traveller as any Ive encountered.
And then theres the character of Herbert Stencil in Thomas Pynchons
V: Herbert Stencil, like small children at a certain age and Henry Adams
in The Education, as well as certain autocrats since time out of mind,
always referred to himself in the third person.
This helped Stencil appear as only one personality among a repertoire
of identities. Forcible disolvation of personality was what he called the
general technique, which is not exactly the same as seeing the other
persons point of view; for it involved, say, wearing clothes that Stencil
wouldnt be caught dead in, eating foods that would have made Stencil
gag, living in unfamiliar digs, frequenting bars or cafes of a non-Stencilian
character; all this for weeks on end; and why? To keep Stencil in his place:
that is, in the third person.
Ooh, arent you well read! mocks Bowie, but his
eyes show a flash of recognition. I understand that
completely! I completely sympathise with the man!
I know exactly why he did that, I think! So that initial
period in Berlin produced Low, which is Isnt it great
to be on your own, lets just pull down the blinds and
fuck em all. The first side of Low was all about me:
Always Crashing In The Same Car and all that selfpitying crap, but side two was more an observation in
musical terms: my reaction to seeing the East Bloc,
how West Berlin survive in the midst of it, which was something I couldnt
express in words. Rather it required textures, and of all the people that
Ive heard write textures, Brians always appealed to me the most.
Yeah, but they lack context.
Brian isnt interested in context. Hes a man with peculiar notions,
some of which I can come to terms with very easily and are most
accessible, and some of it way above my head, mate, in terms of his
analytical studies of cybernetics and his application of those things to
music and his general fine arts approach. Its something that Ive known
from way back as a general characteristic of a kind of person that I used to
know when I was a lot younger.
I find that very simpatico. All those crazies. But I cant really talk on his
behalf. We spend most of our time joking. Laughing and falling on the
floor. I think out of all the time we spent recording, 40 minutes out of
every hour was spent just crying with laughter.
Do you know Fripp? Have you ever spent time
with him in a humorous state? He is incredibly
funny. Unbelievable sense of humour. Having
the two of them in one studio produces so much
random humour incredible stuff. So anyway,
what Im doing, in this wonderful new world of
discovery and experimentation, is a refocus
about what Im trying to do.
We talked a little bit about (you should pardon
the expression) punk rock and Bowie opined
that the worst thing about punk was the way so
many bands were diving gleefully into the
category instead of striving to be assessed outside of it.
None of them are fighting it; none of them are saying, We are us.
Theyre saying, Yeah, we are punk, and in so doing theyre putting a
boundary on their writing scope, which is a shame because they could be
a movement of sorts. But you have to let a movement remain as a
subculture for a little while and gain some Im wary of using the word
maturity gain some recognition of its own relationship with the
environment that it lives in. Thats Enos Rate Of Change one of his
cybernetics things and its very interesting.
People are more interested in the technical innovations as they
happen rather than the rate of change within where they happen.
Hence gadget obsession?
Oh, thats not so bad. I welcome any new relationship between man
and his machine. I think thats very optimistic and very good. The
average man see, what you have got is a situation where a hundred
years ago the average man could fix anything that went wrong in his
home. If it went wrong he could fix it. But how many things does a man
have now that are out of the area of his knowledge? If his television goes,
he has to get a specialist to fix it. He doesnt know his immediate
environment. This is because we are put under the impression that we
are to accept every new technological achievement that is pushed upon
us before we readily understand the last lot.
Whats the last technological innovation that you understood?
Me! I think the fountain pen. Im the perfect example of the victim of
technology. I think its disastrous.
Change of subject. Did Bowie consider he was being misrepresented
when he was tied with fascism last year? What I thought was that Id
made some very trite theatrical observations which in fact backfired.
I cant blame the press for that.
Did you consider it to be a mistake? Oh God, yes, but I thrive on
mistakes. If I havent made three good mistakes a week, then Im not
worth anything. You only learn from mistakes.
So what exactly were you trying to say with all that? It was an
immediate reaction to England, having not seen it for so long. What I said
on the Continent was based on anticipation, and when I got here I thought
Id got it right. I seem to have a knack for putting
myself in those kind of dangerous positions. Id just
dried up and I couldnt write anything.
Do you think that, once again, London would be
a place that would stimulate your writing?
It is a very different London, and that is worth
consideration. Its been on my mind the longer Ive
been here, and Ive been coming back for a couple of
days at a time just taking tentative looks, but theres
so many places that I havent been to get a vibe
from. Charles Shaar Murray
Im becoming
incredibly
straight, level,
moderate
1977
We dont
regret
mistakes
The BUZZCOCKS have grown up away from Londons
punk hype theyve even stopped getting bottled.
I write songs that dont exclude anyone, says
Pete Shelley. The only people they exclude are
people who dont know anything about love.
NME DECEMBER 3
HE PIZZA PARLOUR muzak is a never-ending, damned-for-all-eternity
loop-tape of ageing session men bleating out sanitised versions of 1977
smash hits for swinging teens, etcetera.
Crown Topper, false-teeth, wrinkled interpretations of The Rods Do
Anything You Wanna Do, of The Modern Lovers Roadrunner, even (forgive
them, Lord, they know not what they do) of the Sex Pistols Pretty Vacant, as
well as arteriosclerosistic carbon copies of The Jam, Clash, Damned, Stranglers, Vibrators and
just about every other name in the coterie of punky-waver elite that has ever been reverently
gobbed on by the UKs enlightened hordes of safety-pinheads except for Buzzcocks.
With mixed feeling of relief and slack-jaw shock, I gaze at my Pizza Putrido reflectively.
Surely the high-calibre credentials of the Mancunian innovators would put them amongst
the first in line for the dubious honour of having a bastardised representation of their work
included on any punk-pizza-rock-muzak loop-tape???
Buzzcocks were one of the very first set of collective talents to band together back in June
1976 in the wake of the cataclysmic aural upheaval instigated by Malcolm McLarens Rude
Boys. They played their debut gig the following month supporting the Sex Pistols at
Manchesters Free Trade Hall. Buzzcocks terminated their set when their 16-summers
drummer boy, the gangling John Maher, deserted his skins to flee in tail-flying terror through
the crowd and out into the night.
From there Buzzcocks went on to play support to the Pistols at the first Screen On The Green
gig in Islington; to play Day One of the 100 Club Festival with the Pistols and Clash; to replace
the expelled Damned on the Pistols Anarchy Tour coach; and to support The Clash at the
Harlesden Cinema gig on their White Riot Tour.
The last was just after they became the first band to form their own independent record label
in the dawning of this year when they released the classic, precious, priceless Spiral Scratch
EP on their New Hormones label. Spiral Scratch was arguably the finest 45 since Anarchy
In The UK. No fewer than 16,000 of the little black beauties were bagged and posted by
Buzzcocks themselves from the front room of manager Richard Boons Manchester home.
Buzzcocks vinyl even occupied the last two tracks on the Live At The Roxy album.
All that and what do they get, oh-oh, what do they get?
In sleepy London Town theres just no place on a Pizzaland punk-muzak loop-tape for
a bunch of ridiculously underrated Northern cults.
Oh, theyll get around to Orgasm Addict, comments Pete Shelley dryly as he pops a piece
of pizza into his mouth. Its this commercial world we live in
sheila rock / rex features
Buzzcocks in November
1977: (lr) Steve Diggle,
Pete Shelley, Steve
Garvey and John Maher
1977
Not that Buzzcocks give a toss about Babylon, despite their impeccable
punky-waver credentials. Coming out of Manchester may have blinkered
the record corporations when it came to snapping up this combo for the
dotted line of a recording contract, but this minor disadvantage has
been more than compensated for by the beneficial aspects of their
geographical location; Buzzcocks were never under pressure to follow
a punk party line like some of their contemporaries in London.
In Manchester, fashion as exclusive dictatorship of a silver-spoon elite
just doesnt exist. Buzzcocks have evolved at their own pace. Theyre very
special and they know it; if the rest of the world doesnt well, theyll
catch up sooner or later, and if they dont thats strictly their own loss.
If wed been from London we would have been signed up a year ago, but
we wouldnt be in the position we are now, Shelley asserts. The music
industry is centralised, which is more to its detriment than ours
I hate London, its just another city. We know fairly certain the things
that we want to do and how we want to do them. If wed been caught up in
the rush in the beginning we wouldnt have been given the breathing
space to work on the direction we want to take. We were in no rush to sign.
Shelley smiles, wryly. Until United Artists came along, all the interest
was fairly low profile anyhow.
ETE SHELLEY iS short, sharp and slyly urbane; dapper,

diminutive and quietly defiant in his unfashionably
conservative taste for sartorial elegance a two-piece threebutton electric-blue angora-goats-hair suit worn with a bright-yellow
rollneck, the same two-tone colour combination that dominates on
both the label and cover of Buzzcocks first United Artists single,
Orgasm Addict b/w Whatever Happened To?.
It hasnt been banned, asserts the trenchant Shelley. It just hasnt
been played.
John Maher is elsewhere noshing Anglo egg and chips, so only two
other Buzzcocks are present in the pizza house the Pinocchio-featured,
painfully shy Steve Diggle (back-up vocals and staccato rhythm guitar
to Shelleys lead) and their latest recruit, watchful, silent bassist Steve
Garvey, who resembles Bruce Foxtons kid brother and was drafted in to
replace the ejected, difficult man-mountain, Big Garth, kicked out
because Buzzcocks believe that a group cannot be a therapeutic vehicle
for the problems of one member.
It was getting to the point where if hed been in much longer and didnt
do some drastic changing which we didnt think hed be able to do then
there wouldnt be a Buzzcocks at all, wed all just freak out, opines
Shelley, who is basically a shy person but with growing self-confidence.
Shelley co-founded Buzzcocks with that enigmatic, natty-baldhead
Howard Devoto when the latter stuck up a notice at their college
requesting contact with like-minded souls interested in forming a band.
Shelley was the only person who replied. The two spent a few days in
London checking out the capitals fast-evolving seminal punk scene, and
got the bands moniker from a Time Out review of Rock Follies which
contained the phrase Getting a buzz, cocks!.
They were introduced to Steve Diggle in June 76 by Malcolm McLaren
at the first Pistols gig in Manchester. They found John Maher through an
ad in Melody Maker and at the beginning of this
year, as interest grew in the band after the
release of Spiral Scratch, Devoto left
Buzzcocks to stretch his talents in other
directions, feeling a growing distaste for
performing live and extreme reluctance to
commit himself to anything as drastic as
a recording contract.
Howard thought he would be unable to
experiment if he remained in the band, Shelley
comments, stifling a yawn. I get bored with
people asking about Howard. Tonight is the
63rd Buzzcocks gig (the second of the Marquee
Buzzcocks brace) and Howard only played the
first 11 he was only there at the very beginning.
Their disdain for Babylons streets of chic has meant a disappointing
paucity of Buzzcocks gigs in the capital; before the two Marquee dates
theyd played London only four times in 1977.
Its the only place we get gobbed on, Shelley smirks. Only in London
and other liberated places It used to piss me off, but now I understand
that its a mark of respect
His eyes are wide with mock-awe.
If someone out there can gob right into your

mouth well, its the nearest you can get to a
French kiss from 30 yards.
But it would appear that the cocky cockney
sparrers are catching on fast. The last time we
played London, there was nowhere near as
many chairs and glasses thrown at us as the
time before.
UZZCOCKS SiNG LOvE songs.

The love may be betrayed, bitter,
vitriolic and vengeful, but its love
nevertheless. Shelleys incisive lyrics are the
work of a neoteric Smokey Robinson bearing
a grudge. The direction of the band altered
after the Devoto departure, Buzzcocks
featuring Shelley out front after he took
charge of limelight chores seeming more of
a quintessentially pop-oriented band and
less the vehicle for a tortured, angst-ridden
artist with a widows peak.
The Marquee has got the House Full sign up outside. Inside the
Establishment Punk, vertical gyration and long-distance French Kissing
is reaching perspiration point as Shelley and Diggle fret-thrash the
juddering, abruptly staccato opening chords to Buzzcocks ode to
a shot-nerved unrequited lust habit, Breakdown.
Well-if-I-seem-a-little-jittery/I-cant-restrain-myself
Shelley controls the crowd with a polite deceptive grace, a natural
performer with sufficient confidence in his ability to perform live not
to feel the need to assault the audience with mandatory punky-waver
contrived belligerence.
John Maher is continually head-bowed and relentlessly solid on skins,
his work at the back of the stage meshing with Steve Garveys voluble
basslines, the neophyte Buzzcocks playing obviously still feeling its way
(Lancashires answer to Sid Vicious?), while his studied cool visual is
infinitely more commercially viable in the teen-appeal stakes than that
of the rotund, revolving Garth. And I couldnt help wondering if the
expulsion of the Gentle Giant at this crucial stage of the Buzzcocks
scaling of the heights was perhaps made with a more ruthless calculation
than Shelley would have you imagine.
But thats conjecture; Buzzcocks are now more of a live band than
theyve ever been before, including the early Devoto days. As always,
Diggle looks mildly surprised to find himself on stage, his guitar
emanating a juddering, Wilkoesque stutter as a base for Shelley to cut
short, sharp, savage flicks of the plectrum, giving Buzzcocks the sound of
a humming, brachiatiate circular saw that incorporates the concision and
rock-action speed of la mode punkais while exercising a refreshing control
of dynamics that only the best of the new bands have been able to master.
Its rich, rhythmic and addictively repetitive, perhaps reaching its most
perfect expression on the adventurous instrumental recitation
Pulsebeat. Maher repeats a drum roll of devastating brevity while the
other three Buzzcocks dance, eyes closed with
their instruments silent, then as one man
cutting rich, full, abrupt slices of sound that
build to the contagious, intelligent magic with
which they climax the show.
Doing Pulsebeat as the last number shows
in Buzzcocks a willingness to experiment that
no other band in the UK can match, together
with the panache, aplomb, self-possession and
ability to pull it off. At the bar The Clashs Mick
Jones reels with stunned admiration. Theyre
the only band in the country whod dare finish
with that, he gasps. Fucking brilliant.
Thank you, goodnight! Shelley shouts into
the mic as they stumble off, brought back for an encore of the Spiral Scratch
track Times Up, the story of the disintegration of a teenage couples
relationship when the intentions unjust and the commitments unequal.
I try to keep
the lyrics
I write
ambisexual
Ive been waiting at the supermarket, standing in line with beans

(CASH UP)
Ive been waiting at the post office for sticky pictures of the Queen
(STICK UP)
buzzcocks
December 11, 1977:
topping a bill with
Subway Sect and
Siouxsie & The
Banshees at the
Roundhouse
Boredom, boredom, boredom

Now Im living in this movie
Neoteric = newfangled, in the modern mould
But it doesnt move me
I dont mind waiting for the phone to ring
Let it ring and ring and ring, the fuckin thing!
You know me, Im acting dumb
Yknow the scene, very hum-drum
Boredom, boredom, bor-dum, bor-dum, bor-dum
Now theres nothing thats behind me
Im already a has-been, because my future aint what it was
Well, I think I know the words that I mean
Theres bitterness in our songs, yeah, concedes Shelley. But theres

hope in them, too. I have got a tendency to self-pity, but I realise thats not
the way to get anything done, by making myself a martyr
Buzzcocks. Whatever Happened To? Your love is a cashed cheque
Its more pissed-off frustration than self-pity, says Shelley. Its like,
he free-associates, when someone you really care about does something
stupid and you wish they hadnt done it, youre just sorry that theyve
done that.
Shelley sees the scene in Manchester as infinitely more healthy than
in London, and rightly so, citing the attitude of young Manchester
musicians who are into bands for the simple rush of playing and not
expecting to get signed up by a record label as soon as they step out of the
garage because it just doesnt happen like that up there which is why
theres not a band in the whole of London fit to lick the plectrums of
virtual unknowns The Fall.
Id be a nervous wreck in two weeks if I lived in London, Shelley admits.
Of course, Manchester is far from an aural promised land and has got its
share of dross like anywhere else, but there is a precious vitality about the
city that London (and others) sorely lacks. And it all emanated from the
same raw material that all classic rock sprouts from: boredom, boredom,
boredom, bor-dum, bor-dum.
You know that I say what I mean
I say what comes to my mind
Because I never get around to things
I live a straight, straight, line
You know me, Im acting dumb
You know the scene, very hum-drum
HE SECONd daTE at the Marquee is another unqualified

success. Buzzcocks run through the four Spiral Scratch tracks
(Friends Of Mine, Boredom, Times Up and Breakdown)
plus Sixteen, No Reply, Whatever Happened To?, Orgasm
Addict (Shelley: Its about people who use other people merely for
the orgasm because they cant handle a proper relationship; thats
too dangerous), Oh Shit, Pulsebeat, Love Battery, Fiction
Romance (Shelley: Its about the commercialisation of love in things
like Romeo And Juliet or The Little House On The Prairie to such an
extent that every time you have a minor heartache, you build it into
so much more through sheer theatrical melodrama) and their next
single, the outrageously magnificent What Do I Get?, pure pop for
tomorrow people that is destined to be written down as the finest
single of this year (including Spiral Scratch).
Musically, its Do Anything You Wanna Do without the contrived
sense of epic, while lyrically its worthy of Smokey Robinson at his finest,
and nothing gets better than that.
I just wanna lover like any other what do I get?

I just wanna someone to never forget what do I get?
What do I get oh-oh?/What do I get?
The songs arent complete stories, Shelley tells me. Youve got to put
yourself into them for them to take life.
Do you feel the need to keep your own sexual preference out of your
lyrics and/or interviews?
I try to keep the lyrics I write ambisexual. If I was a great butch macho
rock-guitarist singing songs about laying all the groupies, then it
wouldnt mean anything to women or the people I work with. I dont like
excluding people from ideas simply because of their gender.
And also if I wrote songs like Tom Robinson about being gay then Id
be excluding another part of the audience. And because Im a man, if
I sang songs about male/female gender then its going to cut out more
people. I enjoy writing songs that do not exclude anyone.
The only people they exclude are people who dont know anything
about love. Tony Parsons
And now Im waiting for YOU, to get yourself

good and ready (MAKE UP)
Say to myself is this what they mean by going steady
(BREAK UP)
And Ive been waiting in the waiting room
And Ive been sitting in the sitting room
And now Im whining in the dining room
Waiting for you is like waiting for the man in the moon
I was really smouldering, so I bought a pack of King Size cigarettes
(STOOD UP)
This hanging arounds killing me if you just come along and have no
regrets (GIVE UP)
I call your number and your mother tells me youre still in bed (GET UP)
When you get to the phone your voice is thick and sexy, shoots through
the top of my head (HANG UP)
And Ive been standing in the standing room
And Ive been smoking in the smoking room
And now Im dying in the living room
Im gonna forget what I came for here real soon
I said your times up/Me too
Im out on account of you
Your times up/Me too
And Im out on account of you
Yeah, your times up/Your times up/Right up
What did you think of the Roxy album?

I thought it was a piece of shit because it was so lousy,
Shelley says calmly. Like if someone dug up an old essay of
yours and it got printed and everybody said, Wow, thats great!
But we dont regret making mistakes, it brings a certain order.
I tell Shelley that a good gauge of the difference in the
atmospheres of both London and Manchester is the way that the
superb John Cooper Clarke was received at the Vortex and the last
night of the Electric Circus respectively; in Manchester the kids stomped,
clapped, roared with laughter and even danced (not bad for a poet),
whereas in London the punks threw bottles.
Shelley nods. Its sad that people in London cant appreciate something
new and exciting simply because it hasnt been deemed cool
But London aint the only place where Buzzcocks have encountered
bigots. We played Leeds Polytechnic and I happened to be wearing a
Manchester United shirt and they went totally crazy, recalls a bemused
Shelley. How was I to know what it was; I have no interest in football
whatsoever Ive nothing against students per se, but Buzzcocks would
never play a students-only gig. Its too much of an exclusive thing like
being asked to play a Masonic Hall or a darts team. Its a lot better to play
a CBS convention than a student-only gig you feel like a cabaret girl.
1977
A deranged night out at punk nightspots

in the company of KEITH MOON, newly returned
from LA. Drink is taken, and bands are witnessed,
but its a nostalgic and strangely moving evening.
Ive been into the abyss, Moon confides.
I like the
rape and
pillage
MELODY MAKER DECEMBER 3
huge white Rolls-Royce slid the length
of Wardour Street like a skateboard, Jan & Dean
blasting from its hidden speakers, the owner
bellowing along to Dead Mans Curve like
a man possessed.
From Marquee to the Vortex in five seconds can
man live at such speeds? A queue of sullen punks stands freezing in
the cold, awaiting remission. Up draws the Rolls, Jan & Dean now
spilling out into the street, the battle cry of a Lost Generation. The
punks, all black leather and shivering knees, gaze in wonderment.
Keith Moon strides out onto the pavement, clad in a huge buffalo
coat smothered in fur, and strikes a dramatic pose like a
Shakespearean actor haranguing the plebeians of Rome. This is
privilege, he shouts brazenly, I dont fucking queue, I go straight in,
first class. And he tossed back his head in an arrogant gesture and
swept into the club past fans, bouncers and anybody else who might
dare impede his progress.
It was the grandest entry since Napoleon paraded down the Champs
lyse, and instead of provoking the mob into a fury they responded
with cheers and laughter. It was certainly a hilarious moment, one of
many the night Keith Moon went on a Punk Crawl.
Why should Moon go in among the punks, do I hear the cry? Was it
to be patronising, to be provocative or simply to be a tourist? The
answers are slightly more complex than the questions. It is certain
that of the older generation of rock statesmen, Keith Moon is more
likely to be accepted than most. While most punk bands and
musicians seem positively hostile to all other life forms on the planet,
they have a certain grudging respect for The Who, it seems. The myth
denis oregan
Yes, its a bison. Shot it

myself: Keith Moon,
wearing a fur jacket,
puts his feet up in punk
haunt the Vortex, Soho,
London, November 1977
1977
has somehow arisen that the new-wave bands are only doing what
The Who did 10 years ago.
Actually, it was nearer 13 years ago that The Who were playing
every Tuesday night at the Marquee, and speaking as an eyewitness,
to suggest that any one of the new-wave/punk bands playing today
had a fraction of the originality or excitement of the original Who is
a calumny scarcely worth refuting.
But that does not mean the new wave does not have a right to exist.
They exist for today just as The Who existed for a few brief seconds
(on the scale of history) in their day. The Who were explosive, riotous,
aggressive, violent and undoubtedly prone to fits of madness.
As far as Keith Moon is concerned, nothing much has changed. His
good looks have long since gone, dissipated in a thousand nights of
excess, with no Dorian Gray-style portrait in the attic to haunt him,
except, perhaps, in the faded scrapbooks of past triumphs. Today
good looks are the preserve of Billy Idol and his pals in Generation X,
one of the few bands that do have some of the magic of the old Who
and even sound a bit like them.
Keith retains his Marty Feldman eyes, his expressive face and
maniacal grin that sets off warning bells among the wary. He retains
his restless energy and almost physical impatience. For all his
laughter and wild exploits, there is something infinitely sad about
Keith at times, a man haunted by tragedy and fearful of the future.
But as soon as a dark shadow casts across his mind and flickers across
his face, he shrugs it off and returns to the world he loves best the world
of endless pranks, outrageous poses and verbal onslaughts.
Although the journey from the Marquee to the Vortex is only a few
hundred yards, for me it was like travelling down a time tunnel, aeons of
space and time apart. Id travelled the self-same route with Keith before,
but this time, as we emerged from the tunnel mouth into the Vortex, the
young Keith a frantic blurred figure in a white T-shirt, flailing sticks
and stuffing pills down his mouth instead became a fur-clad apparition,
a distortion of that figure locked away in the memory, surrounded once
more by young faces, no longer fans, but distant characters in a new twist
to the rocknroll plot.
For Keith the journey was a nostalgic homecoming. He has spent long
years in the rather unreal beach-house life of Los Angeles, a giant Jaywick
Sands on the Pacific. To be back in London seemed like a return to his roots.
He actually looked thoroughly at home among the new kids and new
bands that have inherited what was once his kingdom. That was once
the kingdom of the mods, of Maximum R&B, of pills and posters, slogans
and T-shirts.
Things have/havent changed a lot. The noise is still there; only the
names on the T-shirts have changed, along with the attitudes. Twelve
years ago, kids resented outsiders, clung together in groups, identified
with their bands, dressed alike and adopted an aggressive, defensive
collective stance. Today well, lets start at the beginning.
ack in 1966, Keith Moon collapsed after playing a particularly
furious version of My Generation at the Manor House, a pub in
North London. Roadies carried him head-first into the fresh air
and I drove him in my shiny black Consul (200, MOT, radio) to the
Scotch Of St James and bought him a drink.
So I was delighted to be invited out for a return
drink by Keith last week, although when he
proposed a visit to various dens of iniquity and
what have been described as the lowest-class
rhythm cellars in all London, I must admit my
heart began alarming palpitations.
Hailing a hansom cab, I journeyed through
the swirling fog to the notorious red-light
district of Soho, where prostitutes in fox furs
lean indolently against gas lamps, Chinese men
flit to and fro making significant gestures, and
where Bobbies cast the light of their bulls-eye
lanterns into dark alleyways to discern the
mutilated remains of gang warfare.
Keith and I were supposed to meet up in La
Chasse Club in Wardour Street, a once famous
watering hole where the elite of the rock business once stumbled up and
down its steep stairs in search of companionship.
I hadnt been to La Chasse for six years and suspected it was closed. It
was. As I beat on the door on a tiny landing two flights up, a Chinese man
STEVE EMBERTON / caMERa pRESS
flitted down from the floor above and made a significant gesture. There
then followed an inane conversation, which set the hallmark for the rest
of the evening. Is the Chasse open?
What do you want?
Have you seen Keith?
No, I havent seen Keith, Im looking for Richard. We want to buy
some drink.
Yes, but I want to buy a drink too And so on.
It was established that the bar was closed and seemed unlikely to open
for several hours yet, and I repaired hastily to The Ship, the pub just along
the street from the Marquee, which has long been a haunt of musos.
In the early 60s (64-67), the place would be packed with musicians
only, from Jeff Beck to Peter Frampton, from The Animals to Jimi Hendrix,
from The Yardbirds to John Mayalls Bluesbreakers. It was a happy place
until one night a certain drummer with a certain famous group exploded
a smoke grenade on the premises, and cleared the bar.
Keith appeared shocked when I related the story to him, when I finally
tracked him down. Arms outstretched in greeting, he launched into his
dear boy routine, a cross between Jack Hawkins, Viv Stanshall and Noel
Coward. Its one of his favourite roles, tinged with a choleric colonel and
retired empire builder. Delighted to see you, what will you have? He
could be greeting an old army chum at some far-flung trading post.
He is immediately pounced upon by a charming foreign lady, a stranger
to both of us, who wants to discuss his buffalo coat. Yes, its a bison, shot it
myself, said Keith, launching into a tissue of lies, which the lady seemed to
accept without question.
Which tribe did that Red Indian belong to? inquires the woman at
length. Everyone is baffled but began reeling off names of Indian tribes
Sioux, Black Foot, Apache?
No, no, none of them. He was the Red Indian with the Faces Tetsu?
Oh, says Keith, he was JAPANESE! Funny
sort of Red Indian, what? The woman stared
deadpan at Keith in disbelief and then withdrew
from the conversation. At this point, there was
a commotion in the bar and a raising of heads.
Keith emitted a piercing yell and dashed down
the bar to greet the arrival of Generation X. I
stayed with Bill Curbishley, The Whos manager,
a remarkably sane gentleman, and Keiths
chauffeur-cum-minder, Richard, who is well
over six feet tall and known as Little Richard.
The party began to grow larger. John DArcy,
a new Who press officer, arrived, celebrating his
first day on the job. The mumble of conversation
became louder. It transpired that the publican
would not service Billy and Tony of Generation
X. Nothing against the group, hed never heard of them. But if you serve
one punk rocker, you serve em all. That seemed to be the philosophy.
Right then, if they dont get served, we all leave, said Keith, and there
was a mass exodus to the Marquee as the team, now eight-handed,
All this feels

like an early
Who gig. But
theyre not as
talented
throng, a true initiate into the wonderful world of

punkery. And when somebody shouted out Wanker!,
I knew the true bliss of the newly converted.
It was considered a good time to quit the Marquee for
the Vortex, and we left Billy Idol at the bar, while Keith
and remnants of the entourage piled into the RollsRoyce, miraculously intact in the street outside, and
rolled towards the Vortex. I mused that I have once been
Melody Maker scribe
thrown out of the Vortex, or at least refused entry when it
Chris Welch in trad
pullover and beerwas called Crackers, and I was wearing denim jeans,
soaked mock-leather
which werent allowed in such a fashionable disco. If you
jacket is jabbed with
a toothpick by Moon
werent wearing denim jeans now, you might be thrown
out for being a social deviant. Keith staged his dramatic
entry, and I fully expected the revolution to start. But
after Keiths provocative speech-making, the only comment from a
cheerful bouncer was, Is he in a good mood tonight? Perhaps this
was just one performance in a long-running show.
Inside, the Vortex all was safety pins and dyed hair, but I was
relieved to note there was no spitting, as on my last visit. Everybody
Moon shows Billy Idol
was as peaceful as the hippies in the old Middle Earth. It wasnt
of Generation X
exactly Tolkien Lives, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves in
some vamps on the
piano, London, 1977
harmless fashion. There was even a gay punk who observed a reunion
waltz by Mr Moon and the celebrated American singer PJ Proby with a
shocked, Theres some amazing lowlife in tonight. But its made my night,
marched along Wardour Street in a southerly direction. It was an all-punk
dear, seeing Keith Moon. I mean, I go out and buy posters of him.
night at the Marquee and the place was packed to the walls, although not
I must admit it was stunning to meet Mr Proby in such a setting. He was
quite as frantic as when the Tom Robinson Band were on a while back.
strolling about in his cowboy stetson, looking even younger than in the
We meet The Depressions, who will be playing at the Vortex later.
days when I last saw him at the height of his fame. We almost expected
Already the flow of alcohol is beginning to take effect, and as Keith shouts
him to give us a burst of Somewhere. And indeed, Mr Proby was in fine
in my ear above the noise of The Worst (a group from Manchester) it
vocal form as it transpired. Meanwhile, Keith was engaged in heated
becomes harder to discern exactly what he is talking about.
conversation with a young student who gave just as good as he got in the
Ive been into the abyss, Keith revealed suddenly. I knew he didnt
verbal stakes. He did tell me his name, but the shock of finding the Vortex
mean another punk rock club, but that he was probably referring to some
charges 52p for a shot of brandy drove it from an already shattered brain.
dark period in his life. Ive looked over the edge of the abyss, but I havent
At any rate, Keiths new-found friend grinned from ear to ear, shouted his
actually been inside, I tried to say helpfully. Through a haze of brandy
philosophy above the barrage of the band and accused us of ripping off the
and lager, both remarks seemed suitably profound.
punks. Quite how I couldnt completely understand, but it had something
We now seemed to be talking to the chaps from The Depressions,
to do with just being there. Eventually we received some grudging
including Mr Crowbar, the drummer, who is a great fan of Keith. But
acknowledgment. At least youve got the bottle to come down here.
music calls and we fight our way into the sweltering crowd to hear The
Whats to bottle? snapped Keith.
Worst. They are. But they are also tremendous fun. Two, maybe three of
Well, a lot of people were afraid to come here when it first opened.
them altogether. A singer with a guitar around his neck is shouting, Rats,
Keith responded to this by burning holes in the kids jacket.
youre all rats! at us. Im told they make up the numbers as they go along.
I can take anything you can throw at me, he said with remarkably
A drummer leapt from the audience, took over the kit, bashed away
good humour. Keith threw a glass of brandy at him.
furiously for some minutes and then departed by the stage door to wild
Im 30, said Keith suddenly.
applause. The singer continued unabated, until another drummer
Im 18.
appeared and repeated the performance. I believe there was a third, but
They looked at each other and both burst into laughter. The younger of
events became somewhat blurred. A fan told me later that The Worst were
the two lunatics told Keith that rock-star status was of no interest to him.
the best band he had ever seen.
You mean nothing to me, he announced aloofly.
Meanwhile, Keith was back in the bar and being accosted by suspicious
Poof! rejoined Keith smartly. Not the most brilliant repartee, but not
youths in black leather jackets, aged about 14, or so it seemed. Dont you
bad after several beakers of Remy Vortex. Keith then began to turn his
get bored wiv smashing things up? asked one of them superciliously.
attention to me, sticking what I thought was a hypodermic syringe into
Nah, said Keith, I smash up something different every day.
my wrist (it turned out to be a toothpick, mercifully), complaining about
What do you do when youre touring?
my trad pullover and insisting that I was a fool and knave not to spend
Fuck like hell, said our host.
more time with real people like the punks. Apparently he was berating
The next group billed were The Flies, described by Keith as Preme in quite violent terms, according to later reports, but I must confess
Raphaelite scum. But once they started playing he nodded approvingly.
that by this time I was totally immunised, and dont remember a word of
Ah yes, The Flies. They zip along at a furious pace.
it. All I vaguely remember was singing, or rather howling like a dog, along
But did he think they were as good as The Who when they used to play
with PJ Proby and Keith to the music of The Depressions in the worlds
on the very same stage, so many months ago?
first punk version of The Hedley Ward Trio.
No, but theyre good. I feel like getting up and playing with them. I
Keith and PJ split to Tramp club to cause some real damage among the
never sat in the audience in the old days, so I cant tell, but all this feels like
debs, The Whos senior PR consultant left the Vortex to find his charge,
an early Who gig. But theyre not as talented. They have the same feeling
only to be refused re-entry to the club by the previously friendly bouncers
that we had, but theres nothing new there. Ive been to these clubs lots of
(Fuck off, they said). I stumbled into the night air, emerging from the far
times, and I like it all, all the clothes, all the rape and pillage.
end of the time tunnel, my trad jersey soaked in beer, wines and spirits,
Keith, at that moment, caught sight of The Whos new publicist,
plastered with Depressions stickers and convinced there is life after death.
hovering uncertainly. You look like a pillar, roared Keith suddenly. We
But Keith did not escape from the Vortex without one parting shot. This
presume he meant a pillar of society. At any rate the drummer dropped to
time a punk was less enamoured to see the star of The Who and began
his knees and hurled a pint beaker of brandy all over the unfortunate
berating him loudly for daring to possess a Rolls-Royce (that cunning
mans trousers, leaving him somewhat nonplussed.
example of the Derbyshire work peoples arts and crafts which helps keep
The following day, Mr DArcy reported that he had to burn all his clothes
our economy alive). Capitalist pig you shouldnt have a Rolls-Royce,
after our night out and was planning to write a book. As he wrung out his
you should have a peoples car!
trousers I felt a raining sensation round the ankles and discovered that
Keith waited for the tirade to stop. This is a peoples car Get in!
my (imitation) leather jacket was draining off a pint of beer that seemed
to have been tipped down my back. I gave a light laugh and felt one of the
Chris Welch
BaRRY pLUMMER
keith moon
Missed any of our previous issues?

Get them at www.uncut.co.uk/store
order online at www.uncut.co.uk/store
Readers letters
1976
J U LY D ECEMBEr
MM/NME JUL-DEC Presley deposed, Quark atomised and campaigns criticised.
The King (until the next one)
Michael Ochs archives / GeTTY
Without trying to diminish the

contribution Elvis made to rock
music, it is ridiculous to say he
invented rocknroll. Like any
invention, there is always more
than one person on the advent of
breakthrough, but Elvis happened
to be the first in his mould. If it
hadnt been him, it would have
been somebody else. So all that
rubbish about there being no
Cliff Richard or Beatles without
Elvis is pure drivel.
It is also ridiculous comparing
the record sales of Elvis with those
of The Beatles. He released three
or four times the quantity of discs
that The Beatles released (91
singles to 21 [sic]); the only
comparison that can be made is
the quality of their respective
songs, and in that field The Beatles
will never be equalled, let alone
beaten. The Beatles could have
had 100 No 1 hits, but quality not
quantity was their trademark.
Unfortunately for Elvis, he was
not a composer or a gifted speaker,
and it is music that lives on, not
people. In future the names of
Lennon/McCartney will ring
out as composers, and I doubt
if Elvis or The Beatles will be
mentioned in name, apart from
the odd book or film.
As for the behaviour of the Elvis

fans, they have not acted in a way
befitting the King of RocknRoll.
It is a shame that any person dies,
but I would have been old enough
to act in a responsible manner,
and not go crying all over the
place. I dont think Beatles fans
would act in this way, and we are
closer to them and their music
here in Britain.
It is funny how people who have
slagged Elvis off for years are now
singing his praises in print. The
real truth is that Elvis reigned
until about 1963, but since then he
has been about as important to
music as flypaper. Every era has
a King, but since The Beatles we

havent had any.
So the King is dead, long live the
next King. RIP, Elvis. JOHN HALL,
Manchester (MM Sept 10)
strangeness that defies analysis.

And the mysterious charm that
appears to hold it all together.
ROBERT CALVERT, Hawkwind
(MM Jul 9)
Hawk-eyed
Protest note
Thanks to Brian Harrigan for

actually listening to the lyrics on
our new album Quark, Strangeness
And Charm, which few reviewers
have bothered to do in the past.
But Id like to take him up on his
remarks about song structure.
As a lyricist and songwriter,
structure is something I take very
seriously, as does my colleague
and co-writer Dave Brock. Now
the current fashion in song
structure is the old verse-chorusverse-chorus, instrumental break,
chorus, fade, or bomp. Finito. As
exemplified with almost clonelike conservative adherence by
the so-called new wave.
Rocknroll as a musical genre is
pretty conservative anyway, and
anyone who tries to depart from
the accepted structure is bound to
be accused of heresy. The long
intros and fade-outs Mr Harrigan
refers to are, in fact, passages of
musical texture and effects
essential to and expressive of the
lyrics that he seems to regard as
the only requirement of a song.
No doubt along with melody
(which serious composers have
been leaving to the writers of TV
commercial jingles for nearly a
century now).
It is significant that the track he
prefers is the one that has the most
conventional structure (which is
not, in my opinion, synonymous
with the best). If there is ever going
to be a genuine new wave in rock
music, instead of all this hyped-up
rehash of Iggy Pop impersonations
and pseudo-anarchistic
posturing, it is not going to be
spear-heading any new ideas
and attitudes unless they are
accompanied by new concepts of
structure to express them. Form
and content are the same thing,
and cannot be divorced.
If you look back at the history of
authentic artistic (and social)
revolution dada, surrealism,
expressionism, psychedelicism,
etc youll notice that structure
was the first thing to be exploded.
And redefined. Which is exactly
what modern physicists have done
with the atomic theory since the
discovery of the quark. The
NME stands for New MUSICAL

Express, ie, concerned with music.
Today I bought my copy of NME
from my friendly neighbourhood
paper shop. I noticed that for the
second week you had had trouble
with your printers, and the paper
was down to 44 pages. Not your
fault, I thought, cant be helped.
But when in Thrills I found oneand-a-quarter pages on another
one of your causes, namely blood
sports, I got annoyed. You would
have thought that with such little
space you would have filled it up
with musical articles. And no
singles column! Where are we
supposed to find that, in
Gardeners World, Exchange &
Mart, Financial Times? Get your
priorities right: music reviews
before all your causes, whether
anti-NF, nuclear power, or blood
sports. Much as I basically agree
with your views, I buy a music
paper for music, not this kind of
writing. So tighten up, Olde
Campaigners. (Can I have a job?)
EDGAR ALLAN POSEUR,
Amersham, Bucks (NME Nov 12)
Explanation is as follows: we
started the week with a balanced
52-page issue, having pulled out
some advertising to provide
optimum editorial space. This
being so, we had no hesitation
scheduling the blood sports
piece, which was designated for
some of the earlier pages in our
printers schedule. On the day
before press day, however, the
problems at our printers (Whys it
always me, God?) took a turn for
the worse and we were forced to
cut back to 44 pages, dropping
some editorial and some ads.
Editorial cuts had to be made
from material not yet processed
at the printers, and thats why the
singles column (which was late
copy), for instance, went out and
blood sports (which was early)
stayed in. We didnt have no
choice though Godnose we
tried, Godnose we suffer Hell
here every week at the Worlds
Most Beleaguered Rock Weekly,
Godnose yes sirree. (No, you cant.
Get back in the Pit.) Nick Logan
1977
m o n t h by mon th
Coming next...
in 1978!
o that was 1977. We meant it, man.

Certainly, thats not it from our reporters on the beat. The
staffers of NME and Melody Maker enjoyed unrivalled access
to the biggest stars of the time, and cultivated a feel for the
rhythms of a diversifying scene; as the times changed, so did
they. While in pursuit of the truth, they unearthed stories
that have come to assume mythical status.
Thats very much the territory of this monthly magazine. Each month,
The History Of Rock will be bringing you verbatim reports from the pivotal
events in pop culture, one year a month, one year at a time. Next up, 1978!
KATE BUSH
a phenomenal new arrival on the scene. The singer from South-East

London brings a completely theatrical avant-garde pop, all delivered in
an unprecedented voice. Is it contrived? I just opened my mouth and it
came out, she says. Honest.
BOB DYLAN
Back with a huge band, and an engaging line in stage banter, Dylan
even finds time for an informal chat with the MM. I turned round in
Japan and saw a pair of breasts on stage, he says of his newly sexy
show. I thought then that somethings gotta be done about this.
THE JAM
paul weller and band visit America. A support slot with Blue yster
Cult isnt rapturously received by band or audience, while Weller feels
stung by the fate of The Jams first album. In a few years time, asserts
Weller, people will realise how good it was.
PLUS
DAVID BOWIE!
SUICIDE!
ROLLINg STONES!
FROM THE MAKERS OF
Every month, we revisit long-lost NME and Melody Maker interviews

and piece together The History Of Rock. This month: 1977.
In 1977 I hope I get to heaven/Cos I been too long on the dole
Relive the year
THE CLASH SAW LONDON BURNING

DAVID BOWIE MADE LOW AND HEROES
THE SEX PISTOLS BROUGHT ANARCHY TO EUROPE
and KEITH MOON, LED ZEPPELIN, BUZZCOCKS,
ELVIS COSTELLO, MUDDY WATERS and many more
shared everything with NME and MELODY MAKER
More from
...
w w w.uncuT.cO.uK

The History of Rock #13 - 1977

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The History of Rock #13 - 1977

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the history of rock | 1977

a monthly trip through

We aint ashamed to fight

from the makers of

PLUS! ramones | tom petty | buzzcocks | iggy pop | keith moon

fter the widely publicised stirrings of the Sex Pistols at

HISTORY OF ROCK 1977 | 3

A bad start to the year for Keith

A new one from Bowie, and

Bowie is incognito. In his

The former Genesis

A trip to the record company

Fleeing lurid headlines,

The Sex Pistols

Angus Young opines angrily

The Chess Records star

The first offering from The

Marleys Rastaman Vibration is

The bespectacled firebrand

The laid-back Southerner

Robert Plant gives his

The Clash write. A telegram

4 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1977

RIP Elvis Presley. RIP

Never Mind The

Mick Jagger stays abreast

Benign chaos on the

140 Keith Moon

118 The Clash

132 David Bowie

In Belfast, the band meet

Bowie gets inside

Pizza and wry chat with

Elvises of all kinds.

HISTORY OF ROCK 1977 | 5

REx FEATURES, WARInG ABBoTT / GETTy

iggy pop, SEx piStoLS,

NME JAN 15 Keith Richards in court

January 11, 1977:

6 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1977

chalkie davies / getty

n Monday Morning, a gold Rolls-Royce

HISTORY OF ROCK 1977 | 7

For the defence, Sir Peter Rawlinson,

After a recess, the defence told the jury

MM MAR 19 Indiscreet liaisons. A new

he past few weeks have been just like

GLOBE PHOTOS / REX

8 | HISTORY OF ROCK 1977

the Decca label. The bands contract had

All this, however, had to be scrapped at

Before the drug

Before the Toronto drug busts, it is

HISTORY OF ROCK 1977 | 9

March 10, 1977: the sex

We shall have to leave Britain

signatures on the dotted line. As soon as that

The Pistols main

A&M Records have signed

NME MAR 12 Bob Dylans wife files for divorce.

Bob dylan: faces

It is also said that he two would go for long periods of time

MM JAN 22 An inflatable pig. A full year recording.

ink Floyds new year has started with a